LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Sh.eif....S.5..5 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




The Present Khedive of Egypt, 1892. 



EASTWARD 



TO THE 



LAND OF THE MORNING 



,/ BY 





/] 

CINCINNATI 

ROBERT CLARKE & CO 
1893 



Copyright, 1893, 
By ROBERT CLARKE & CO. 






\^ 



A preface seems a useless prefix to a little volume 
like this. It contains only the record of a happy 
winter under sunny skies and amidst strange peoples; 
and as it is said that each and all of us see the world 
through different glasses, so perhaps something new 
may be found in these notes, though they are for the 
most part over the beaten pathway. Still, as I have 
not gone into detailed description — have in fact 
avoided any thing of the guide-book order — simply 
giving my own impressions of the grand panorama 
of the world as it unrolled itself before me, perhaps 
those impressions may interest you. If they are the 
means of inducing any one to "put a girdle round 
the earth," they will more than have fulfilled their 
mission. M. M. S. 

Cincinnati, March 20, 1S93. 

(H5) 



CONTKNTS. 

PAGE. 

Brundisium the Ancient, . . . . i 

Port Said, the Entrance to the Orient, . . 6 

Through the Streets of Cairo — The City of 

Mahomet Ali, ..... 13 

Departed Splendor, . . . . • ^9 

The Wizard of Egypt, . . . . 28 

'J'he Passage of the Nile, . . . -31 

High Tea in Asouan, .... 40 
Through the "Tears of Isis" and on to Suez, 43 

Farewell to the Land of the Vulture, . 51 

"The Great Ditch," . . . . .53 

" Enter India by the Front Door," . . cr 

Through the "Gate of Tears," . . • 5^ 

Bombay, the Englishman's Graveyard, . 61 
Therefore they give his body to the Vulture, 66 

The Cobra and the Mongoose, . . 70 

The Races of India, . . , . -7^ 

The Men and the Monkeys, ... 80 

Mt. Aboo and the Holy of Holies, , . 86 

The Royal Tiger at large, ... 96 
Deserted Amber, ..... loi 

The Horrors of a "native state," . .. 107 

Delhi and the Peacock Throne, . iii 

"Crown of the Palace," the Taj Mahal, 120 

Cawnpore and Horrors of the Mutiny, , 124 

(v) 



vi Contents. 

PAGE. 

LucKNow, ITS "Residency" and its Vampire Bats, 132 

Benares, Sacred and Ancient, . . . 136 

The High Court of the Monkeys, . . 141 

Calcutta, her Monuments and her Baboon, 147 

Upward to Darjeeling, .... 151 

In the Presence of Kinchenjanga, . . 158 

The Attentions of "Sake Baboo," . . 162 

Bay of Bengal and Life on a P. and O. S. S. r66 

"Two Tours" Versus "One," . . . 174 

One God Above All, . . . ... 177 

Ceylon, the Devil Dance, and the Upas Tree, 1S2 

Sunday Inspection at Sea, . . . 189 

Canton, as Shown by "Ah Kum," . . . 194 

American Versus English Ships, . , ^ 201 

The Land of the Morning, . , . 205 

Light, Laughter, and Happiness, . . 207 

Sacred Nikko and her Shrines, . . . 213 

Vengeance of the Rickshaw Boys, . . 217 

Sleeping Japs like Roosting Chickens, . . 219 

yoshawarra, the quarter of the lost, . 223 
The Great Idol of Kamakura, Earthquakes, and 

Drunken Monkeys, ..... 228 

Art in Japan, ..... 235 
The Feasts of the Cherry Blossoms, Azalias, 

and Wistaria, ..... 238 

Farewell to the "Point of Tomioko," , 240 



EASTWARD 

TO THE LAND OF THE MORNING. 



CHAPTER I. 



" We reached the place by night, and heard the waves 
breaking." 

BRUNDISIUM, the ancient, where 
Caesar and Pompey met ; where 
commenced the Appian Way — that 
high road between Ancient Athens and Im- 
perial Rome, both in ruins now — while here 
nothing save a broken archway and stately 
column remain to tell of the grandeur so 
long since passed away. Across the harbor 
rise the ruins of a fort of later date, while 
beyond it the crews of three steamships are 
vainly endeavoring to draw one of the ships 



2 Eastward to the 

of their line off the rocks where she has 
landed during the night and now stands fast 
on an even keel. 

Below us the quay is alive with a motley 
concourse of people pending the departure 
of four stately ships, one for Patras and 
Athens, another for Constantinople, a third 
for England, while a fourth is destined for 
far Australia, and by her strange appearance 
at once chains our attention. Through the 
square ports (in place of the round ones to 
which we have always been accustomed), we 
see the Pankhas slowly waving over the din- 
ner tables ; her decks are even now covered 
with a double awning foretelling the great 
heat which she will have to encounter, while 
to and fro pass the Lascars and Kitmughars 
(stokers and stewards) in strange Eastern 
dress. As the twilight deepens, that ship 
takes an Oriental and Eastern appearance, 
which strongly whets our appetite for that 
outer world that lies before us, for that 



Land of the Morning, 3 

farther Orient so full of romance and story, 
and to which we are bound. 

Brindisi the modern, is inhabited by the 
most lazy, good-for-nothing, and dirty lot 
of people to be found anywhere in Italy, 
Naples not excepted, and, though it is on 
the high-road to the Levant, to Egypt, to 
India, and the farther East, there is abso- 
lutely no progress. I am told that some of 
the people are very well off, yet so lazy and 
stingy that they live for months on fruits, 
never having fire of any discription in their 
houses, and that they are a set of thieves and 
cut-throats. 

The place awakens from Saturday until 
Monday, between which times most of the 
ships arrive and depart, but sleeps most 
profoundly the remainder of the week. 

We had expected to cross to Patras in or- 
der to visit Athens, but detained by a cable- 
gram from home, were obliged not only to 
give it up, but forced to take a small German 



4 Eastward to the 

Lloyd steamship, the " Danzig," for Port 
Said. These are always *' nasty seas " and 
no matter how peaceful and smiling they 
look from the land, are sure if you are in a 
small ship, to prove too much even for old 
sailors. It was so for us, except in the case 
of the small boy, who ate the most astound- 
ing meals at any and all hours. 

However, all things have an end and even 
this tempestuous sea quiets at last. Ceph- 
alonia and snow-clad Candia appear and 
disappear, and overhead all is sunshine. 
The blue sea spreads peacefully around us 
and continues in like peaceful mood until 
the four days necessary to accomplish the 
nine hundred miles between Brindisi and 
Port Said have come and gone, Then the 
light-house of the latter place at whose base 
cluster vast masses of shipping, and from 
which away on either side the low African 
coast shows a glittering golden line be- 



Land of the Morni7ig. 5 

tween the deep blue of ocean and sky, 
beckons us to that "Land of the Vuhure" 
—Egypt. 



Eastward to the 



CHAPTER II. 

Port Said, Noveinber. 

IT is seventeen years since I last saw 
this place, and in that time it has in- 
creased in many ways, especially in 
wickedness. As in the Yellowstone re- 
gion the fires of hell come to the surface 
of our earth, so in Port Said the Devil's 
handiwork amongst mortals has been most 
successful, and 't is a pity the two places 
can not be combined. It is disgusting, yet 
it is very picturesque. Through its center 
flows the broad Suez Canal, to the north- 
ward gleams the Mediterranean, on either 
hand stretch away the yellow sands of the 
desert to their meeting with the bending 
arch of the deep blue sky, while the town 
seems to cling wildly to the canal as 
though afraid of being lost in the limit- 



Land of tJie Morni7ig. 7 

less expanse of sand. Overhead vast flocks 
of flamingoes and pelicans fairly darken the 
sun, while below the people darken the 
earth. It seems verily the hub of the 
universe, and looking around one would 
judge that at present all the people of the 
w^orld are striving to reach it. The sea is 
thickly dotted with crafts of every descrip- 
tion, while away, over the low lying land, 
long trains of camels slowly wend their way, 
all bound for this one point. 

As you enter the harbor the entire pop- 
ulation comes out to meet you, while those 
who can not find space in the water, crowd 
the adjacent banks. Americans and En- 
glish, Chinese and Australians, the turbaned 
Indian, the dusky Moor, and wild looking 
Bedouin crowd close around you. On the 
top of that bank a stately sheik of the 
desert (one notes from his green turban 
that he is a decendant of the prophet), 
has spread his prayer rug and, with his 



8 Eastward to the 

face toward Mecca, and his thoughts in 
Paradise, is going through his devotions 
utterly obHvious of all around, — while just 
beyond an irate " clergyman of the Church 
of England " is, with a green umbrella, 
soundly beating a donkey boy over the 
head, probably the demands for "Back- 
seech " having exhausted even his patience. 
Out over the desert as far as the eye can 
reach swarm the people, looking like masses 
of huore black ants. As we mount the 
bank, we find that an American has inter- 
rupted the devotions of the sheik by trying 
to buy his prayer rug ; evidently the price 
is not sufficient as yet, for the old man, 
standing with arms extended toward Mecca 
and wath eyes on the Yankee, is in grave 
deliberation as to w^hether he had best serve 
" God or Mammon." Mr. America says 
nothing, but waits, just allow^ing the silver 
to gleam for an instant as he slowly slips it 
back into his pocket. That settles it, and 



La7id of the JMoriiing. 9 

when I see the sheik later in the day, what 
he has to offer to his God is offered on the 
bare sand. However, the " groves were 
God's first temples," and prayer rugs 
merely an invention of later times. 

Passing onward, we soon reached the 
hotel where we are to spend the night, and 
dropping our luggage, we start off on a 
wild scamper through the Egyptian portion 
of the town, securely mounted on the backs 
of " Mary Anderson," " Mrs. Cornwallis 
West," and " Two Lovely Black Eyes," 
three as lively donkeys as one is apt to 
meet with even here. My most vivid rec- 
ollections of this land are connected with 
like wild scampers on such donkeys all the 
way from Alexandria to the first cataract 
and back again. I think these must be the 
grandchildren of those old donkeys, and 
certainly the race has not degenerated in the 
least. The swift, soft patter of their flying 



lo Eastward to the 

feet seems to wipe out all the years that 
have flown and to make one almost a boy 
once more, so joyous is the motion. We 
are convinced during this ride that in the 
matter of dirt Egypt has not changed at all. 
Dirt and dogs are around us every-where, 
but it would not be Egypt if it were not so. 
Neither does one greatly mind such things 
in the Orient, and I can imagine nothing 
more incongruous than this land swept and 
garnished. 

In the early morning we steam away up 
the canal, or rather ''down," as we are go- 
ing southward. Three hundred feet broad, 
it stretches away before us like a deep blue 
ribbon on a field of gold, its waters crowded 
with gay colored shipping, its banks dotted 
with people, generally clothed in blue with 
crimson turbans (that being the usual dress 
of the Fallaheen), here and there a signal 
station with its many colored flags, while 



Land of the Mo7^ning. 1 1 

above flocks of crimson flamingoes and 
snow-white pelicans float majestically across 
a sky '' so deeply, darkly, beautifully blue " 
that those of Sicily pale in comparison. 
The picture is most brilliant and one never 
to be forgotten. 

Later in the day, we are favored with our 
first " mirage." Vast flocks of brilliant 
birds pass and repass in the distance, but 
all upside down ; a sudden change in the 
atmosphere, and they vanish utterly. Half 
way between Port Said and Suez, at Ismalia, 
the train awaits you for Cairo. You feel 
that it should be a string of camels, but you 
accept the train. Miles of the desert are 
passed. Tel-el-Kebir, with its record of 
blood, is left behind you, while ere long the 
setting sun lights up the waves of the desert, 
touches with gold the minarets of the mosque 
of Mahomet Ali and the summit of the great 
pyramid. Then you know you are once 



12 Eastward to the 

more in Cairo, the City of the CaHphs. 
Here we shall wait three weeks for our 
Indian ship, which will give us time for a 
glimpse of the land of Isis and Osiris. 



Land of the AIorni7ig. 1 3 



CHAPTER III. 

"A land where all things always seem'd the same.'' 

Cairo, Dece^nber 4. 

THE flags of Shepherd's Hotel, that 
caravansary of nations, and mine 
host, who is now a fat German in- 
stead of the stately Turk of the past, wave 
us a welcome. We accept the welcome, but 
have no time or thought for rooms ; they 
can come later. Now on this world-famed 
porch we are soon deep in altercation con- 
cerning that all pervading subject, " don- 
keys." The candidates for our favor stand 
below in rows, calmly regarding us with 
great black eyes and ever and anon pointing 
their ears forward the more certainly to 
catch what is being said about them. Not 
that it is said in a whisper, I would have you 
know, but amidst such a babel of voices that 



14 Eastwai'd to the 

in our land would cause a descent of the 
police. The different merits of each is en- 
larged upon at great length. We are as- 
sured that ''Adelaide Ristori " possesses 
heels that will soon leave " Martin Luther " 
far behind, while the virtues of " Lucretia 
Borofia " would make "Osiris" blush with 
envy. I ask for my old donkey, "Helema," 
who, alas, has been in his grave these many 
years ; but I am answered that his great- 
grandson, " Madame Recamier," possesses 
all the merits of his distinguished ancestor. 
He is therefore selected, and in company 
with '' Lucretia Borgia " and " Osiris," car- 
ries us swiftly past the Esbekiyeh Gardens, 
through the shadowy " Mousky," where 
stray sunbeams light up gorgeous colors 
and the balmy air is laden with " attar of 
roses." Now a long string of camels just 
in from Arabia, now a whole harem mounted 
on donkeys and guarded by a repulsive- 
looking eunuch, pass us by ; and now a 



Land of the Mornhig, 1 5 

funeral possession, heralded by that strange 
screech owl cry of mourning — used also for 
congratulation. 

Through a shadowy doorway comes the 
swish, swish, of swiftly moving garments, 
and the uncertain light shows us the ghostly 
figures of the dancing dervishes fluttering 
round and round like great white moths. 

As we leave the streets and mount to the 
citadel, the Khedive, a pleasant-faced man 
of middle life, dressed in black and wearing 
the '' fez," passes us in an open landau, pre- 
ceded by two running footmen dressed in 
flowing white garments, with velvet jackets 
embroidered in gold, and carrying long 
wands in their hands. Softly on the evening 
air come the slow, solemn notes of an English 
funeral march, and we stand reverently, w4th 
heads uncovered, as they bear past us all 
that is left of some poor soldier boy w^ho 
will never see merry England any more. 
No grave under the hawthorn hedges — only 



1 6 Eastward to the 

a shallow pit in these horrible shifting sands 
that have swallowed so many thousands of 
us. ''Oh, the weariness of it all!*' 

Upward and upward, until from the plat- 
form before the alabaster mosque of " Ma- 
homet Ali " we gaze upon a panorama un- 
rivaled in all the world. Behind us rise the 
minarets of that beautiful mosque, crowned 
with the glittering crescent. To the left is 
the window through which the last of the 
Mamelukes jumped his horse to escape 
Mahomet Ali and certain death. There at 
our feet spreads the fantastic Oriental city. 
Off to the left the tombs of the caliphs lift 
their dainty domes, while further on the 
obelisk of Heliopolis (the "On" of the 
Bible, where Moses dwelt) pierces the sky. 
In front and on either hand, bearing on its 
bosom the island of Rhoda, where that 
prophet was found, stretches the sacred 
Nile, whose green valley rises until it meets 
at the foot of "Cheops" the sands of the 



Land of the MornUig. 1 7 

desert stretching westward, wave on wave, 
like a frozen ocean, into whose depths the 
blazing sun is slowly sinking. Away to the 
southward from '' Cheops," through Mem- 
phis to the '' False," stretch the pyramids, 
those strange sentinels, guarding the dead 
in their keeping — guarding also the abodes 
of the living against the ever encroaching 
sands of the great Sahara. Lower and 
lower sinks the sun, fainter and fainter 
grows the daylight, while the voice of the 
muezzin's "Al-la-hu Ak-bar, Al-la-hu Ak- 
bar," falls like a benediction. All the world 
seems wrapped in profound repose — buried 
under the intense silence so peculiar to 
Egypt. Suddenly the West commences to 
glimmer with a faint rosy glow, which, ever 
increasing and deepening, soon covers the 
heavens with a mantle of crimson, against 
which the pyramids and palms are sharply 
silhouetted ; desert and Nile seem turned to 
blood and all Cairo aflame. It is the after- 



1 8 Eastward to the 

glow, and departs as suddenly and swiftly 
as it came, while from the '' wings of night" 
darkness falls like a pall. 

" How sad were the sunset, 
Were we not sure of the morrow " 



Land of the Morning. 19 



CHAPTER. IV. 

CAIRO under English rule is fast im- 
proving as is the whole of Egypt. 
It is very evident that England 
never intends to give over her control. It 
is to be hoped that such is the case. Now 
even the beggars begin to realize that they 
have some rights with laws to protect them ; 
still, for the traveler, the land as I saw it 
seventeen years ago, under Ismail Pasha, 
possessed infinitely more attractions. It 
was then a strange blending of the Bible 
and Arabian Nights. The ever-changing 
panorama of flying donkeys and veiled 
women, the splendid fetes in the palaces on 
the river, the slave boats slowly drifting 
before them, the splendor of the rich ever 
contrasted with the wretchedness of the 
poor — the whole made a picture never to 



20 Eastward to the 

be forgotten by those who saw it. The 
Cairo of to-day, however, is full of intense 
interest and is by far the most Oriental and 
Eastern of all Moslem cities. Not far from 
the town in the desert an enterprising 
Frenchman has started an ostrich farm. It 
is in a most successful and flourishing con- 
dition. Its pens are full of splendid birds 
of all sizes, from the little one a day old 
and a foot high to the full grown ostrich 
that, with its brilliant black and white plum- 
age, presents a marked contrast to the 
wretched specimens to be found in the 
gardens of Europe and America. It is a 
most comical sight to see the little birds 
watched over by their gigantic " ancestors," 
who certainly are the emblems of concen- 
trated conceit. No beau or belle of the 
human race assumes such airs as do the old 
male birds ; one in particular could have 
given points to the best ballet dancer of 
Vienna or Warsaw. As I watched him, 



Land of the Morning. 2 1 

another approaching quietly in the next 
pen, reached his long neck over the top of 
the inclosure, and gave my tall hat such a 
whack that it was driven far down over my 
eyes, and I was driven in confusion from the 
scene. The hat was ruined — well, no 
matter — one has no right to wear such in 
ancient Egypt, though many do so now. 

We return to the city via the " Choubra " 
road, which twenty years ago was the 
fashionable drive, now deserted for that 
across the Nile near the race course. How- 
ever, this Choubra road is associated in my 
mind with one of the most gorgeous scenes 
of those gorgeous times — scenes and times 
which ruined Egypt and drove Ismail Pasha 
forever from the land. We were returning 
from the race course, where all day long we 
(with thousands of others, "guests of the 
Khedive," all of us) had been served with 
wines and dainties worthy of Paris. When 
I tell you that there were some fifteen 



2 2 Eastzvard to the 

thousand '-guests'" present, you can imag- 
ine how that one feast must have cost his 
royal highness, or rather the poor of Egypt 
from whom he ground it all. 

It was late in the afternoon and we were 
in haste to return to dinner, and later the 
great ball in the Palace of the Gezereh, 
given, as were all those fetes, in honor of 
the marriage of Prince Heritier and three 
of the royal princesses. Choubra road was 
crowded, so much so that any advance was 
impossible ; the people were evidently wait- 
ing for something, which we soon discovered 
to be the public display of the wedding 
presents. Long lines of camels, donkeys, 
and beautiful Arabian horses approached 
bearing velvet and satin cushions upon 
which gleamed diamonds, rubies, emeralds, 
and every other precious stone known to 
man made into every sort of ornament; 
shawls from Kashmir, carpets from Persia 
and India, presents of gold and silver from 



Land of the Mor^iing. 23 

every monarch of Europe, until the animals 
bearing them were almost hidden there- 
under. Wealth enough to put bread in the 
mouths of all those starving, for they were 
starving, people that looked on with sul- 
len faces "biding their time." I watched 
it all until the slanting shadows warned 
me that I had better be off and attend to 
that dress coat which I had discovered in 
the "Mousky," and meant, if it could be 
made to do, to wear at the royal ball that 
night. What a coat? My own, which was 
my first and therefore too valuable to be 
"packed all over Europe," had been left in 
London. However, I meant to go to that 
ball, and I knew that a pair of dark brown 
trowsers with a white stripe would pass 
muster in so vast a throng, but that I could 
not by hook or crook make a brown 
"frock" pass for a black dress coat, and 
therefore I scraped this thing up in a Jew 
shop in the Mousky. I was tall, while it 



24 Eastward to the 

was made for a short man, and, when 
"ready" was truly a work of art. Not a 
button was where it ought to have been, 
and the patches of dark blue and rusty 
black used in its reconstruction cast the 
famous coat of Joseph completely into the 
shade, and, when combined with the brown 
and white trowsers formed a picture which 
daunted, for a time only, even my young 
spirits, especially when the rest of our party 
kindly suggested that I could pass for 
''Brother Jonathan." We were three hours 
that night making the short distance 
from Shepherd's Hotel to the Palace of the 
Gezereh, so enormous were the crowds. 
Every few feet of the way was lighted by 
lanterns held aloft by slaves, who amused 
themselves now and then by eating the 
candles. The illuminations were truly 
oriental in their splendor, and formed a 
vast pathway of ever-changing light from 
the city to the palace, on one side of which, 



Land of the Morning, 25 

deep in the shadow and guarded by blood- 
hounds, excited almost to a frenzy by the 
unusual light and noise, stood the royal 
harem. On the other side peacefully flowed 
the Sacred River, lighted only by the 
moon, darkened only, now and then, by the 
passage of some slave boat with its freight 
of human misery — the memory of which 
clouded all the splendor and went with us 
even to the foot of the throne, before which 
as I made my salutations to his royal high- 
ness, I was suddenly reminded of my own 
remarkable appearance by a voice behind 
me demanding "where I got that coat." It 
was most unkind for every one near heard 
it and laughed, even the Khedive who 
understood English perfectly, and could 
scarce restrain himself, oriental though he 
was ; every time I passed him during the 
evening his eyes would glance coatward 
with a merry twinkle. The crowds in the 
palace represented every nationality. Here 



26 Eastward to the 

a Frenchman with his eyes on every woman 
in the place, there a beautiful American 
drifted through the mazes of the waltz* 
while next her an English dame moved 
around like a humming top ; here a party of 
Germans discussing the delicious wines and 
cigars of his highness, while down that 
long vista of smoke-ladened rooms sat 
solemn faced stately Turks each with his 
nargileh and a pile of gold near him, obli- 
vious of all around, intent only on the game 
before him. The sounds of barbaric music 
mingled with the deep baying of the blood- 
hounds came to us through the open 
windows, while that deeper, louder roar 
came from a young lion but lately added to 
the private zoological garden of the palace. 
It was nearly sunrise on a Sunday morn- 
ing before we reached our hotel quite weary 
enough to enjoy a day of ''rest," but there 
was no ''day of rest" in Cairo in those 
days. Fete followed fete, day after day, 



Land of the Morning. 27 

and for weeks after we had sailed away to 
upper Egypt. As we left the hotel on our 
way to the Dahabeeh several of the royal 
carriages passed, the occupants of which 
cast handsful of gold to the people, and as 
we sailed southward, the palace of the 
Kasr-el-Ali close to the river bank was 
alive with the glories of another fete, but we 
had had enougrh of them and sank with 
sighs of contentment upon the divans of the 
boat, while we watched her graceful lateen- 
sails fill with the north wind, which soon 
wafted us silently and swiftly away from the 
sights and sounds of modern Cairo — into 
the shadowy silence of that old, old land, 
rendered the more silent and solemn by the 
very contrast with the splendors behind us. 



28 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER V. 

■' Antiquity appears to have begun, 
Long after thy primeval race was run." 

DO you think it strange that, so far, 
nothing has been said about the 
Sphinx ? I have written pages 
about it and destroyed them all, because I 
did not want to confess to a disappointment, 
and yet the disappointment was certainly 
there every time that we stood before it. 
Years ago I remember that grand, sad face, 
rising from the limitless expanse of sand, 
with only the pyramids to bear it company, 
while here and there flitted the silent, black- 
robed Bedouins, and no sound save the 
moaning winds or shrill cry of the sacred 
ibis broke the stillness. Then for hours 
I watched, entranced, the sunshine and 
shadows drift across its face, while from the 



Land of the Mornmg. 29 

weary lips seemed to issue that riddle that 
they have been asking for so many centu- 
ries. In silence I stood before it — in silence 
and with bowed head I passed from its au- 
gust presence. Now, it has been excavated, 
and stands, seemingly shivering, in a hollow. 
We looked down upon it, instead of gazing 
upward, and it scarce seemed possible that 
that could be the same im^age that had been 
so engraven upon my memory. Now, there 
is nothing of dignity or grandeur about it, 
and when on turning away, disappointed and 
disgusted, we were confronted by a French 
waiter from the bran new hotel near by, who 
thrusted a tray of French coffee under our 
noses, we fled in terror, not daring to look 
backward lest the very pyramids should ap- 
pear decked out with green and white awn- 
ings and ablaze with electric lights. Still 
there was one consolation. Nothing can 
keep back the sand for any length of time, 
and it will surely, ere long, throw again its 



30 Eastward to the 

waves around the Sphinx — perhaps higher 
and higher until that solemn face shall look 
its last on the long, green valley and the 
placid river, and the moaning wind coming 
with the rising of the moon, from the desert 
of Arabia, will sound a requiem over that 
vanishing form, that last vestige of the old 
religion — while it whispers into its ear the 
solution of its riddle. 



La?id of the Morning 3 1 



CHAPTER VI. 

COOK certainly deserves the thanks of 
the travehng pubHc, but he has had 
to work for it. I remember years 
since when he was just getting under way, 
how the people cursed him right and left. 
One party outside the walls of holy Jerusa- 
lem swore they would have "his entire con- 
cern arrested when they returned to Eu- 
rope," but he sailed on serenely, and now 
holds the fort in all directions, the result 
being that travel is neither so expensive nor 
so troublesome. It took us two weeks to se- 
lect our Dahabeeh, clean, provision, and 
charter her, while we were obliged to go 
again and again before our consul, in order 
to force the dragoman to do his duty — now 
you have simply to go to Cook's office in 
Ludgate Circus, and the whole matter is ar- 



3 2 Eastward to the 

ranged for you in half an hour, so when you 
arrive in Cairo your boat, be she sail or 
steam, is ready, and as his company is En- 
glish, you may be sure that they will carry out 
their contract. He has not as yet reached 
Japan or China, but he is a blessing indeed 
throughout India, where you can not trust 
your servants with any amount of money, 
where the changes are frequent and nearly 
always in the middle of the night, when to 
leave a warm room and shiver for an hour 
while you dance attendance on slow mov- 
ing Indian railway officials, would be any 
thing save pleasant. I have never used his 
guides or his hotel coupons, nor have I ever 
traveled with one of his parties, but where 
I have used him he has proved a blessings 
indeed. 

If your time does not allow of your as- 
cending the Nile in a " Dahabeeh," I should 
most certainly recommend the route by rail 
to Sioot, and thence in the post boats as far 



La7id of the Morning. '^ " 



JO 



as you desire. The trip to the first cataract 
and back fi'om Cairo can be made in ten 
days, allowing three at Thebes, and at As- 
souan you can change into a smaller steamer 
for Wadahalfa and Aboo Simbal. There are 
never any crowds on these boats and you 
are your own master. If you take one of 
the larger steamers from Cairo, you travel 
herded like a lot of sheep, over whom the 
dragoman has supreme control. Having 
once paid your money at Cairo you are help- 
less, and he knows and rejoices in the fact. 
Therefore, if you are so unfortunate as to 
secure his enmity, you will suffer in the 
thousand and one ways known only to him- 
self (rest assured he will not forget one of 
them). There is no tyranny in the world 
equal to that of these dragomen, so I would 
recommend the post boats if you can not 
take a '' Dahabeeh," but, it is only on a 
" Dahabeeh " that you will find the poetry 

of life on the Sacred River. It is impossible 
3 



34 Eastward to the 

to drift and dream on a steamboat. I shall 
always remember the nine happy weeks 
spent on our Dahabeeh " Ibis." It was the 
life of the "Lotus Eater," so impossible in 
the rush and roar of later years, and formed 
the foundations of friendships that have 
lasted and I trust will last unto the end. 

But we have no time for that now. The 
Indian ship sails in a fortnight. So we take 
the train for Sioot, where we find the post 
boat waiting and on which we are soon com- 
fortably settled, being allowed ample time 
to quarrel and haggle with that turbaned 
figure on the bank above for some truck 
which he has and w^e want. There are but 
two or three beside ourselves on the boat, 
all Englishmen in the service of Egypt. 
Cook has rented all of the post boats, and, 
having arranged some comfortable cabins, a 
pleasant saloon and deck, and provided a 
good table, we find we are very comfortably 
fixed, and, after a good dinner, settle our- 



Land of the Alorning. 3 5 

selves thoroughly to enjoy all that may come 
to us. How weirdly beautiful the scene is 
to-night. Across the sluggish current of the 
river, the low, yellow^ banks are crowded with 
a motley congregation of wretched people, 
donkeys and camels. Back of them lies the 
dirty mud village, w^hich every rising of the 
Nile sweeps away, while above it, high in the 
air, stately palms rear their dainty fronds, as 
though striving to keep them free from the 
filth beneath. Beyond, are the low lying Lyb- 
ian mountains, glowing and quivering in the 
crimson afterglow. The air is full of silence ; 
the spirit of the adjacent desert seems to 
have enchanted it forever. 

Suddenly the old merchant on the bank 
catches sight of a face on an approaching 
steamer, and gives utterance to that strange 
screech-owl like cry, used this time to wel- 
come a returning soldier, whom we learn 
afterward, has been sometime in jail. In- 
stantly the cry is caught up, here by the 



36 Eastward to the 

crowds on the banks, yonder by that old 
patriarch guarding his sheep, while even the 
Muezzin on the minaret of the mosque 
turns voice and thoughts from Heaven to 
welcome the return of the prodigal. 

Driving the crowd like chaff from before 
her, to the very water's edge, and into the 
very water itself, rushes a figure, old and 
bent, with scattered grey hair and claw-like 
fingers, hideous yet beautiful with the divine 
light of love which shines forth from her 
eyes. It requires no interpreter to tell us 
that it is the man's mother; but when you 
see . him push her rudely aside it does 
require a strong effort of will to keep from 
taking a stick to him. 

Verily the fatted calf will be killed in 
that town to-night and for a most unworthy 
object. 

How much more real the Bible is after 
visiting these Eastern lands, where you 
seem suddenly transported backward to the 



Land of the Mommg. 2^7 

days of the patriarchs, while quotations 
from the sacred writings are continually in 
your mind. Even as I write I see through 
an open doorway "two women grinding at 
a mill." Time will fulfill the rest — " the 
one shall be taken and the other lelt." 
Shepherds still watch their flocks, crook in 
hand, all up and down this long green 
valley, that seems ever in conflict with the 
yellow sands of the desert that here have 
crowded it close upon the river in ap- 
parently a vain endeavor to swallow both, 
while a short distance below victory seems 
on the side of the river and valley as they 
spread away miles on either side. It is an 
eternal conflict between the powers of death 
and life, and when you look around on the 
vast ruins of past grandeur, on this narrow 
valley and its wretched people encompassed 
by the mighty desert, death seems to have 
the upper hand — but still the seeds of life 
are here and will, under the present wise 



;^S Eashvard to the 

policy of England, triumph in the end, and 
Egypt may yet be herself again. 

During the ceremonies of welcome at- 
tendant upon the return of the prodigal, I 
pointed my kodak at a small boy who fled 
away as though the demons of hell were in 
hot pursuit. I remembered in former years 
my opera glass always caused such actions, 
and on the day of the display of the royal 
presents, almost created a panic. How- 
ever, the magical word — backsheesh — ban- 
ished fear and brought this youth back to a 
point where I could secure his classic ap- 
pearance for future delight. He certainly 
did not boast of enough clothing to cover a 
canary, such as there was of it hanging in 
tatters, and as to whether it was intended 
for robe, trowsers, coat, or vestments was a 
matter he could never have decided himself, 
— we gave up the attempt in despair. 

The rush and roar of the steamboat was 
a source of constant irritation to me and I 



La7id of the Morning. 39 

was forever uttering silent protests against 
such desecration of the Sacred River, 
though I could not but acknowledge that 
the genius of Fulton was serving us well. 

It was quite dark before we landed at 
Edfoo and rode a mile inland to visit the 
beautiful and perfect temple of that name ; 
perfect as when deserted by its priests and 
people ages ago. In the solemn light of 
the torches it was not hard to summon from 
their graves the ghosts of the past, not hard 
again to people it with stately throngs, again 
to hear the solemn chants of that old relig- 
ion — but time pressed and we were obliged 
to leave a closer inspection until we came 
down the river. For the same reason we 
were allowed but a glimpse of Thebes as we 
passed her yesterday. x\nd in the early 
morning light to-day '' Kom Ombo " towered 
above us for a moment as we sped south- 
ward. Her days are numbered for she is 
fast slipping into the river. 



40 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER VII. 

" What then is a Howadji."' said the Emperor of Ethiopia, 
draining a beaker of crocodile tears ? '" Howadji," repHed 
the astute Arabian, '"is our name for merchants, and as onlv 
merchants travel, so we call travelers.'' 

/^ X XOWADJI, we are at Asouan, 

I I and the donkeys are ready for 
a visit to the quarries." It 
does not take long to dispose of our coffee 
and eggs, and we are soon enroute through 
the shady bazars and dusky streets of this 
city of the Cataract. Small-pox is rampant 
amongst the poor, so we hasten through the 
town and out on the burning sands where 
the o^reat unfinished obelisk lies, and will 
lie forever unless some shoddy millionaire 
from our own land finds it worth his while 
to purchase and complete it for his own 
tombstone. However, as this granite does 



Land of the Morning. 4 1 

not endure forever In our climate, this will 
scarcely happen. I remember both the 
London and New York obelisks when they 
stood in Alexandria (one only stood, the 
other being half buried in the sand). With 
hieroglyphics as perfect as when first com- 
pleted, with the granite glistening in the 
sunlight, they were things of beauty. 
Look at them now. Ten years with us has 
done what two thousand could not do in the 
dry air of Egypt. 

On our return we called ''by request" 
on the American consul, a dark skinned 
Egyptian with four wives and speaking not 
a word of English. Here we sit in solemn 
high conclave for an hour. Some one has 
made him a present of a white and gold tea 
set, which is produced from its case in our 
presence, washed and daintily arranged on 
a low table. The making of the tea is 
evidently more difficult, but when it comes, 
in the matter of strength it leaves nothing 



42 Eastward to the 

to be desired. It would certainly have kept 
an elephant awake, for, as we were obliged 
through politeness to drink it, we slept not 
at all for a week. He returns the call 
almost immediately, in fact I think he 
reaches the boat before we do, and we are 
obliged to go through another hour, tea 
and all, but this time take care that there is 
nothing stronger than hot water in our cups. 
Conversation being impossible, save through 
the dragoman, who, of course, is not to be 
found, the absolute necessity of suppressing 
ones almost irresistible desire to laugh is 
exhausting, and we are forced to retire to 
our cabins every now and then for relief 
All things have an end, and he soon takes 
his ridiculous little black person off to his 
four wives, and we started on a never to be 
forgotten visit to Philae and the first Cata- 
ract. 




Egyptians Dancing in the Temple of Philae. 



Land of the Morning. 43 



CHAPTER VIII. 

I DID not see Philae when here before, 
and I find that I then missed the crown 
of ancient Egypt. Resting on her is- 
land, surrounded by the rushing waters — 
those tears of Isis over the death of Osiris — 
embowered in palm trees, she is beautiful as 
a lily, stately as an ancient court dame left 
alone in a ball-room of the long ago, while 
we of this nineteenth century seem strangely 
out of place as we wander through her 
stately courts, dreaming of her past, or 
watching the river as it rushes by the temple 
of the "King's Bed." 

We notice that the columns of this last 
temple are not covered, as is every other, 
with hieroglyphics, showing that the old re- 
ligion was passing away even then (about 
the commencement of our era). This was 



44 Eastward to the 

the favorite palace of Cleopatra. Here she 
lived and loved and murdered, though she 
spared it the disgrace of her death. I was 
surprised to see it stated not long since that 
she was '' fair " faced. Certainly her graven 
images do not make her such. 

It is a great temptation to go on from here 
to those grand rock cut temples of Aboo 
Simbal, but time will not allow it. We are 
already seven hundred miles from Cairo. 
Therefore we turn backward, and entering a 
stout barge manned by sixteen sturdy Nu- 
bians, and presided over by a dwarf straight 
from the Arabian Nights, prepare to descend 
the Cataract. To the measured stroke of 
the oars the crew keep up a weird chant, 
while the dwarf closes each verse with a 
prolonged and deeply uttered "Ah!" So 
we drift northward while gazing southward 
at fast vanishing Philae. The light of the 
setting sun gives her life again, and phantom 
forms seem to wave us a farewell. 



Land of the Morning. 45 

A sudden turn and lurch and we are in the 
midst of the Cataract. The blacks strain 
and groan over the oars, and as each portion 
of the boiling water is conquered, give ut- 
terance to a wild shout of triumph, the dwarf 
all the time waving his arms aloft from the 
prow, and looking more like a huge bird of 
ill-omen than any thing human — if these 
creatures be human, which it's hard to be- 
lieve. These rapids are much greater than 
I had expected — quite equal to any on the St. 
Lawrence. We must have been an hour in 
making the passage ; it was more than that 
before we landed on the levee at Asouan, 
where we were plunged in the midst of the 
most motley congregation to be found on 
earth — Egyptians, coal black Nubians, and 
that strange tribe of wandering shepherds, 
the " Bischereens," now driven in from the 
desert by famine, English soldiers, donkeys, 
and donkey boys, camels, buffalo, cats, dogs, 
chickens, Americans, Arab girls — clothed 



46 Eastward to the 

and otherwise — Cook's tourists, and goats — 
all were in one wild, pell-mell, while presid- 
ing from the mast of an old boat over the 
whole lot, was our late captain, the dwarf, 
waving his arms in malediction at our fast 
vanishing boat. 

I am quite convinced that to be black, 
ugly, and a dwarf, is a sure passport to the 
esteem of the opposite sex ; that dwarf was 
all of this and was as big a rogue as the sun 
shines on, yet he so thoroughly convinced 
one of the ladies that he was a much abused, 
most innocent, and long suffering person, 
that upon our departure she bestowed upon 
him as a remembrance, a silver shawl-pin, 
which he swore *' by the beard of the 
Prophet," he would forever cherish in mem- 
ory of the gracious donor. How long Ma- 
hommed Hassen kept his word can be 
judged, when I tell you that ere we were a 
hundred yards away he was speeding up the 
bank in the direction of the silver bazaars. 




Mohamet Hassen, Assouan. 



La7id of the jMor7ii7ig. 47 

But she declares to this day that, with tears 
in his eyes, he was pressing the pin to his 
heart, and could have only been enroute to 
his home, there to enshrine it amongst his 
relics from Mecca. That there were tears I 
acknowledge, but only because I declined to 
allow him to swindle me beyond a certain 
point. 

So we leave Asouan, and the fast flowing 
river soon takes us past Kom Amboo, Esne, 
and Edfoo to the ancient city of Thebes, 
where we tarried a few days in her quaint 
little inn, and experienced our first earth- 
quake — all except a fat woman who held 
down her end of the hotel, and held us all 
liars when we enlarged on the quake. She 
wore a hat like a bread bowl and ate 
' nothing save porridge, sir," directing a 
severe gleam at poor me that was vainly 
trying to masticate a piece of beef that 
may have been young and tender when Isis 
and Osiris were wed. She possessed a 



48 Eastward to the 

wisp of a husband to whom, later on, when 
we were all gathered In the saloon and had 
been listening to some good music, she 
announced that it was now time for him to 
sing his song, whereupon he sang sweet old 
** Ben Bolt," but his accompanist, an English 
maiden of uncertain age, was evidently out 
of humor because the handsome blond 
doctor had not come to time, as was '' con- 
fidently expected." Therefore she rattled 
along at such a pace that the poor little 
man was forced to slam down the "granite 
so grey" on poor Alice — make such hasty 
ruin of the "old rustic porch " and bury the 
schoolmaster so much ahead of time that 
the result was disastrlous, and the fat 
woman carried him off to bed, casting 
indignant glances at the handsome doctor 
for being the direct cause of it all. 

Outside, now under the shadow of a 
palm, and now In the intense moonlight, a 
broken billed pelican holds weird incanta- 



Land of the Morning. 49 

tions, dancing the while solemnly to his own 
shadow and regarding us with high disfavor 
for our interruption thereof. The fountains 
plash over the blossoms of the lotus and 
the air is heavy with the odor of the 
almond. 

It was always impossible for me to resist 
a dance, no matter of what form, and just 
here I scare the pelican into fits by joining 
in his. So in Cairo a^t the dancing Dervish 
I found two of our party securely anchored 
to the tails of my light ulster to prevent my 
joining that dance. The result of such an 
action would have been a riot to say the 
least. 

In the early morning we started north- 
ward. There to the left is " Medinet Aboo" 
and the Remeseum, while the rising sun 
lights with crimson the mountains of the 
desert, where sleep the royal dead, and one 
seems to hear the music which his coming 

ever draws from the statues of Memnon 
4 



50 Eastward to the 

in the valley near us. Off to the right 
crowd the ruins of Luxor, and beyond them 
long avenues of sphinxes lead up to that 
marvel of the world — gigantic Karnack. 
Stately Denderah and the tombs of Beni 
Hassen (those oldest works of man) are 
past and gone — Memphis with her pyramids 
and her one solitary sad faced Colossus — all 
that is left of her former gandeur, Cairo 
glittering with all the colors of the rainbow, 
while snow^-white on the deep blue sky 
seems to float the Mosque of " Mahomet 
Ali," They are gone, even Cheops has 
vanished from sight. The journey to Suez 
is over, and we are far to the southward on 
the Red Sea with only the mountains to the 
westward to remind us of the ''land of the 
vulture." 



Land of the Mornuig, 51 



CHAPTER. IX. 

I ALWAYS leave Egypt with regret, 
and have no sooner done so than I 
plan to get back again. I live in hopes 
of another winter on her Sacred River — not 
in a steamboat, not roaring and rushing 
along, but, as of old, in a " dahabeeh," 
drifting and dreaming, going when, where, 
and how we desire, and drinking to the full 
the enchantments that come with that life 
of silence, day after day, week after week, 
until you dream of the lotus, see the lotus, 
and, " in this hollow lotus land, live and 
lie reclined." Nowhere else in this wide 
world does one so enter into and become a 
part of the long dead past, and centuries 
seem but as yesterday. Now and then you 
awaken with a feeling of rebellion against 
the terrible and inevitable foro^etfulness of 



52 Eastward to the 

time. These slowly rolling years are so 
surely taking you with them to be in a little 
while carried away and no more seen — 
forgotten utterly — even as these ancient 
Egyptians. '' Earth to earth, ashes to 
ashes, dust back to dust." Especially in 
the presence of these stately ruins does 
your little span of life seem less than 
nothing. Thousands of years will find them 
as they now are, while you — what and 
where ? Surely nothing but a firm belief in 
the Christian religion enables one for an 
instant to face that question, yet that God 
and that religion does enable you to look it 
all calmly and quietly in the face. '' I go to 
prepare a place for you that where I am, 
there ye may be also." 



Land of the Morning. 53 



CHAPTER X. 

WHILE waiting for our ship at Suez 
I chanced to visit the office of the 
Canal Company, and was much in- 
terested in inspecting their methods of hand- 
Hng the commerce of that very important 
connecting Hnk between the East and the 
West. It consists of a large model of the 
canal, with every station, light-house, lake, 
or bay represented. Up and down this they 
move blocks of wood, to which are attached 
flags bearing the names of the vessels in 
the canal at that time. They are notified 
as to the exact position of each ship, and I 
was shown exactly where our ship lay, and 
watched its progress daily until it hove in 
sight. It takes several days for most ves- 
sels to make the passage of one hundred 
and ten miles, as none save the Royal Mail 



54 Eastward to the 

(the P. &. O. line) are allowed to travel by 
night, and they use large electric search 
lights. 

The town of Suez is fast falling into decay, 
the port having been moved some five miles 
to the southward. The Royal Mail gives 
both the go-by, stopping only at Ismalia, 
midway in the canal, and not again until 
Aden is reached. 

I have spoken several times of the blue- 
ness of these waters, but I think these at 
Suez surpass any that I have ever seen. 
Perhaps it is the contrast against the brill- 
iant orange of these sands. At all events, 
it is of a blue so brilliant, so sparkling, that 
any painter who attempted to reproduce it 
would be laughed at except by those who 
had seen it. 



Land of the Morning. 55 



CHAPTER XL 

IF ever you visit India, enter by the front 
door ; that is, from Europe, and on an 
EngHsh ship. The reasons for this are 
obvious. India is a British colony, and to 
her England sends all her best and brightest. 
By so doing you are sure to meet delightful 
people, perhaps make many friends, and may 
even have a ''P. & O. flirtation" on your 
way out. The men are apt to be officers 
on the way to join their regiments, and it is 
impossible to find the wide world over a 
more cultivated and delightful man than an 
officer in Her Majesty's service, or one who 
will do more to make your visit a success, 
and enable you to enter a strange land with 
some knowledge of its manners and cus- 
toms. I can imagine nothing more unfor- 
tfunate than to land in India, of all countries. 



56 Eastward to the 

without some such Information, especially If 
you have ladles in your party. 

Enter India from the East, and you will 
come in at the back door in company with a 
few traders and tourists, who know no more 
of the land than yourself, every thing will 
seem wrong side up, until you feel as one 
does when attempting to enter a theater 
while the audience is coming out. 

It was our misfortune to be unable to find 
passage on an English ship, at Suez, but as 
we neared the Austrian Lloyd steamship 
Poseidon, over its rails leaned two bright, 
English faces, with whom we at once made 
friends, and to whom, one especially, we are 
indebted for being enabled to enter India 
with our eyes open, not groping blindly and 
In the dark. 

Mr. Carnegie, In his ''Tour Around the 
World," tells everyone to sail from the East 
to the West, thereby being bowled along 
by the trade-winds, over calm seas, while all 



Land of the Morning . 57 

ships that he met with were battUng against 
head-winds and seas. I can only say that 
the winds seemed all in our favor, and that 
we sailed through the absolute calm of sum- 
mer from Suez to Hong Kong. Of course, 
this is during our winter months. During 
the summer the storms that sweep these 
oceans are most appalling, especially when 
the monsoon breaks in July. 



58 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XII. 

"A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters " 

IT is ten days since we left the " Land of 
the Vuhure " — ten days in which we 
have steamed steadily southward and 
eastward — days of gorgeous sunlight, nights 
full of a moonlight whose brilliancy fairly daz- 
zles one. Now a glimpse of the mountains 
of Arabia, now of Egypt, is caught, and soon 
we have passed through Bab-el-mandeb (Gate 
of Tears) and are all day long rocking to and 
fro, under a blazing sky, in front of Aden, 
the '^barren rock." Nought is there save 
a few houses attached to the military station, 
a place with no water except such as is col- 
lected in some high and ancient tanks, and 
which, if empty, force the people to con- 
dense the salt water around them. 

Away to the northward, in the hazy dis- 



Land of the Morimig. 59 

tance stretches Arabia, where your life 
would soon pass from your keeping, if not 
through the very desolation of the land, 
then through the hostility of the people. 

We are quickly boarded by a most mot- 
ley collection of people, and spend much 
time in bargaining for ostrich feathers, pay- 
ing a mere song for really very superb speci- 
mens. These waters are supposed to be 
full of sharks, but that does not deter the 
black boys from diving for coin, thrown far 
out into the sea. This is the last land until 
the shores of India rise from the eastern 
waters. The ship coals here, and we are 
almost suffocated with the dust. Our cap- 
tain having gone off to a dinner party, it 
takes much waiting and whistling before he 
returns, and we are enabled to steam away 
to the north-eastward into the lonely reaches 
of this eastern sea. " Boundless, endless, 
and sublime," the Indian ocean, unbroken by 
wave or wind, with never a sail or bird or 



6o Eastwai^d to the 

fish to awaken its solitude, soon enfolds us. 
One vast glassy mirror, out of which the 
sun rises a yellow ball, and sets a yellow 
ball, with none of the fantastic clouds of the 
north, or gorgeous afterglow of Egypt. 
Each day, the counterpart of that which has 
gone before, and of that which is to follow. 
What memories of our boyhood readings 
come to us, how the very smell of the Xmas 
books (so full of wild tales of these eastern 
seas) given us by a hand now still forever, 
come back as we drift over this world of 
water. How long and how short life seems. 



Land of the Morning. 6i 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THERE are but few of us, in all not 
more than eight or ten, all English 
except ourselves, on the ship. Hav- 
ing petitioned the captain to have the meals 
served without the usual accompaniment of 
grease; having banished the fat man, who 
insisted upon wearing gorgeous pyjamas all 
day, to the forecastle, and having requested 
the fat boy to grease the rudder chain and 
wear shoes (the latter he declined to do), 
we wait with calmness the first glimpse of 
sacred India, but not until late on a moon- 
light night do we sight the light-house of 
Bombay — that Englishman's graveyard. 
How completely the rush and bustle of the 
western world seems left behind us as we 
enter the harbor of this eastern city ! How 
silent it all is, and how hot. So hot that we 



62 Eastward to the 

give up our idea of sleeping on deck, and 
loading our effects on two drays start for 
Watson's Hotel. So far nothing has seemed 
strange or eastern — nothing to let us know 
where we are ; but suddenly, at the gates 
of the custom-house, our way is barred by a 
stately white-robed figure, over whose ebony 
face towers a majestic crimson turban. 
With a deep salaam and a few words in 
Hindoo, he waves us inward. Then we 
realize that we are at last in the land of the 
rajah, the land of the mutiny, the land 
which holds the Taj Mahal, the vale of 
Kashmir and the Himalayas — in a word, 
in India. 

Watson's Hotel was asleep inside and out, 
but it seemed to me most of the guests were 
sleeping outside, for before every door two 
or three white figures were dozing, and, 
awakening on our approach, tugged away 
at a rope over their heads. They are punk- 
hawallahs, who all day and night keep great 



Land of the Morni?ig. 63 

hanging fans in motion, that their masters 
may be cool. It reminds one of that scene 
in " Tale of the Two Cities," where the 
people are forced to beat the ponds all 
night, that the marquis in the chateau yon- 
der may not be disturbed by the frogs. 
But don't waste your sympathy here, for 
these punkhawallahs think they have an 
easy time of it, " sitting all day and night 
in the shade, with nothing to do but pull a 
rope." There are three or four of them for 
the twenty-four hours, and those off duty 
simply double up and go to sleep. Their 
food, which is brought to them once a day, 
consists of a bucket of curry and rice — at 
least three quarts — which they eat with their 
fingers. With this is taken large quantities 
of water, the result being, in many cases, a 
stomach so enormous that walking is almost 
impossible. 

I have seen many a child of six years 
carrying a ''bay window" that w^ould have 



64 Eastward to the 

done honor to a Sixth ward alderman of 
fifty. As their legs are umbrella-like in size, 
the sight is most ludicrous. 

Over all the hotels, and all India, hangs 
a pervading and, to me, sickly odor of musk, 
which, we learn later, comes from the oil 
used by the Hindoos for anointing after the 
bath. 

It is almost morning. Our tired heads 
seem scarce to have touched the pillow ere 
the first meal, ''chota hazri" (toast, tea, and 
jam), is brought to our bedside. Now all 
the world gets up, and the streets will be 
(until the heat about ti a. m. comes on), 
thronged with such a mass of humanity, of 
all sizes and colors, that the eye wearies of 
the constant change. Here a lot of jug- 
glers, dogs, and monkeys ; there a cart 
drawn by long-horned oxen and filled with 
gayly dressed, closely veiled Hindoo women; 
yonder a company of English soldiers, all 
glorious in crimson and white, followed by 



La7id of the Alorning. 65 

some Sepoy in dull yellow ; and now and 
then, but they are few, an American, who 
takes it all in, and has no taxes to pay for 
so doing. (Thank heaven, here is a spot 
to which a Cincinnatian should emigrate.) 

Here comes a procession of those mer- 
chants of the East — those worshipers of the 
sun, those followers of Zoroaster, the Par- 
sees — clothed in white and wearing dark, 
square, glazed miters, which mark them as 
something separate and apart from the 
world. As they pass with measured steps 
and bowed heads, you see that they carry 
in their midst a silent form, and you know 
that they are on their way to Malabar Hill, 
where the "Towers of Silence'' have kept 
their secrets for so many centuries. Let us 
follow. 



66 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XIV. 

" The Towers of Silence." 

WHO has not heard of them, and, 
having once heard, who has not 
woven around them all sorts and 
conditions of romance. Listen to the truth. 
On the top of Malabar Hill, overlooking all 
Bombay, the adjacent islands, and the dis- 
tant Indian Ocean, in the midst of an im- 
mense beautiful garden, stand the towers, 
but where I had expected to see tall, stately 
structures, that would lift their burdens al- 
most to cloudland, lift them up and away 
from the dross of this world to where only 
the birds of the higher heavens could con- 
gregate, I saw five low, white-washed, and 
roofless buildings, circular in form and fright- 
ful to look upon, over which slowly circled a 
mass of hideous vultures, some five or six 



Land of the Mornmg. 6y 

hundred in number. Their keen eyes had 
already seen the approaching procession, 
which they welcomed by the most discord- 
ant clatter and cawing. The only opening 
to the towers seems to be a low, barred door, 
half way up the side. About one hundred 
feet from the entrance you are arrested by a 
sign — " Stop Here." To this point the dead 
are brought, and here received by the car- 
riers, who alone can enter these abodes of 
horror, and having once passed here, no 
mortal, save the carriers, ever looks upon the 
dead again. 

Onward and upward the white-robed fig- 
ures bear their burden, the low door opens — 
they are gone. It is merciful that you are 
simply told what happens, that you do not 
see it. Some six feet from the top of the 
towers, on the inside, rests a circular grating, 
arranged in- three divisions, for the men, the 
women, and the children. The center is a 
well into w^hich the bones are thrown, and in 



6S Eastward to the 

less than half an hour every vestige, save 
the bones, has heen devoured by the shriek- 
ing vultures, that scarce give the bearers 
time to do their work. 

The old custodian told us that he had ar- 
rived, in former years, from Calcutta, where 
he was then living, just as the body of his 
father had passed the sign post, but had 
been sternly bidden to stand back, and was 
forced to listen to the shrieking birds, know- 
ing what their awful work was. Even as he 
told his tale we noticed a sudden commotion 
amongst their masses as they covered every 
adjacent tree, crowding even the top of the 
tower itself, and suddenly, with discordant 
shrieks, they descended in an almost com- 
pact mass upon the summit. The battle in- 
side is evidently fierce — is carried on in mid 
air, in plain sight, over some fragment of 
what was a living human being but yes- 
terday. Faugh ! Come away ; it is terri- 
ble! Even the flowers seem polluted, and 



Land of the Morning. 69 

we threw away those the old man had given 
us. *' All hope abandon," if you pass those 
portals, for 't is even said that should you, 
as is claimed some have done, come to life 
again, you would be left to your fate, bound 
and helpless. Forever after it is quite im- 
possible to look upon large black-birds with 
any pleasure. Awakening one day on my 
porch at Watson's, I found a lot of ravens 
regarding me and holding solemn, high con- 
clave. '' To be, or not to be," was evidently 
the question before the house. I concluded 
that it was not to be, and shied a book at 
them, much to their consternation, and also 
to that of some natives in the square be- 
neath. 



JO Eastwai'd to the 



CHAPTER XV. 

IT Is amusement most intense to lie back 
on your shaded verandah, during the 
hot hours, and, while you dose and 
smoke, and your servants bring you cool 
drinks and hot tea (coffee you never see in 
India, or at least it is not fit to drink), watch 
the shifting crow^ds below you. There are 
jugglers, with all sorts of boxes and baskets. 
Just lift the top of that small, round one, and 
from it the deadly but fascinating cobra will 
rear itself several feet, while it casts search- 
ing glances around for its enemy, the mon- 
goose, which it knows is in another basket, 
near by, and which it also knows will come 
out victor in every encounter. The mon- 
goose is a small, weasel-like animal, that 
seems utterly impervious to the poison of 
the cobra, and never hesitates to attack it at 




Chief of the Monkey Temple, Benares. 



Land of the Morning. 7 1 

once. They say that in its wild state it 
knows of a weed that it always eats after a 
battle, but certainly no such antidote was 
present here, and yet it sprang at the serpent 
the moment it was released from its case, 
and came off the victor. We had them both 
up on our veranda. The instant the cobra 
came from its basket, it reared its head, and 
with distended hood and glistening eyes ad- 
vanced majestically and swiftly toward me, 
but the speed of its advance was nothing to 
that of my retreat, and, though assured that 
its fangs had been extracted, I mounted from 
chair to table, from table to balustrade, and 
finally started to climb up a pillar in a man- 
ner worthy of a member of the N. Y. A. C. 
Suddenly the serpent seemed to collapse, as 
it were, and then tried to slink out of sight. 
Looking for the cause I saw the gray head 
of the little mongoose just above its basket, 
while its sharp, black eyes, glittered in an- 
ticipation of its coming triumph. Gliding 



72 Eastzvai'd to the 

suddenly forth It advanced swiftly upon the 
cobra, and seizing it by the jaw, held it, no 
matter what its struggles were, and they 
were terrible. However, the fight was only 
for a show, so the juggler, seizing both snake 
and mongoose, separated them, returning 
each to its case. Then I came down from 
my pillar. 

There is no known antidote for the poison 
of the cobra. Its work is swift and sure. I 
saw, however, in a morning paper here, that 
the life of a child, in Colombo, had been 
saved, but only because the snake had just 
bitten a rabbit, thereby exhausting the venom. 
The child seeing its tail sticking out of the 
ground, had pulled it out. The serpent is 
of a very delicate build, and if you see it in 
time, one blow of your cane will break its 
neck, after which you can admire its colors, 
light brown very strongly marked with dark 
brown, at your leisure. Though thousands 
fall victims to the snakes in this torrid land, 



Land of the MoDiing. 73 

they are usually natives who walk through 
the long grasses barefooted. The govern- 
ment lately offered a reward for every ven- 
omous serpent, brought in alive or dead, but 
was forced to cancel said reward, as the na- 
tives took to breeding the snakes in every 
old well and chimney in the country. How- 
ever, they are rarely visible in winter, and 
you need have no fear in coming. 

Down in the square a huge, grey ape (with 
long, chinchilla mane) wrestles ever and 
anon with its master, and throws him. Just 
now he has tossed a rock, a foot square, 
fifty feet or more, upsetting a basket and 
several hampers of fruit. The damage done 
thereby was in the hands of the arbitrators, 
i, e., the rest of the motley throng, when we 
left Bombay, four hours later, for the caves 
of Elephanta. Starting in a steam launch, 
from the "Apollo Bunda" — the great pier 
of the city — a sail over a beautiful bay 
brought us to an island, embowered in palms 



74 Eastward to the 

and mangoes, and flaming with all the gor- 
geous coloring of the tropics. Up a flight 
of stone steps, old, and covered with moss — 
deep in the side of a hill — one finds the fa- 
mous temples of Elephanta, cut out of solid 
rock. Chamber after chamber gives evi- 
dence of the orreatest amount of careful la- 
bor, and of the most fanatical destruction. 
Broken columns, dismembered idols, are 
around you every- where, while in the grand 
hall sits a colossal and majestic statue of the 
great triple-headed god of the Hindoos. 
The central face, that of Brahma, the crea- 
tor, seeming to be "all amaze" at the de- 
struction around him. The face to the right 
is Vishnu, the preserver, soft and full of 
mildness, while the terrible features of Shiva, 
the destroyer, are carved on that to the left. 
I was disappointed in these famous caves, 
though I can't tell why. The view over the 
harbor of Bombay, the islands and the 
ocean, is most beautiful, but I do not care to 



Land of the Mo7^7iing. 75 

visit these temples again. They are the 
only ones of note near Bombay, and that 
city itself does not — aside from the Towers 
of Silence, and from the fact that it is your 
first Indian city, your first glimpse of these 
Eastern peoples — possess any object of es- 
pecial interest. The English portion is beau- 
tiful, and the railway station the most mag- 
nificent in the world, beside which, the one 
on Forty-second street, New York, is a mere 
shed. 



76 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XVI. 

IN Bombay you must provide yourself 
with the thousand and one things nec- 
essary for your journey inland through 
both hot and cold countries. You must 
possess a tope or thick felt hat, through 
which the heat of the sun can not pene- 
trate (an ordinary felt, such as we use at 
home, would be no protection, and straw' 
worse than useless). You will adorn the 
tope with a brilliant scarf called a " purge- 
ree." You must purchase your traveling 
bed, your spirit lamp, and last but most im- 
portant, secure a good servant. This is 
generally done through your banker. Ours 
was recommended to us by a Miss Miles, of 
England, who was delighted to know that 
her "faithful Thomas would secure such an 
excellent berth." Well, he did ; but how 



Land of the Morning. "]*] 

we fared you will hear later on. If these 
Hnes ever meet her eye, and I have no no- 
tion that they will do so, I should just like 
to know ''what she did it for." 

Even at this entrance to India, the people 
strike you as of a much higher order than 
those of Egypt and Syria, and they do not 
swarm so, thereby reminding you of black 
ants suddenly scared from some carrion. 
There are, of course, millions on millions of 
them, but each race retains its distinguishing 
characteristics. The Parsees are stately, 
dark eyed, and fine featured, extremely in- 
telligent, and most pleasant to meet with. 
They came, originally, from Persia, and are 
therefore fire worshipers, which accounts for 
their strange and to me horrible mode of 
disposing of their dead. Earth, fire, and 
water are alike sacred, and can not be pol- 
luted. Hence there is nothing left save the 
birds of the air. The bearers and custo- 
dians of the Towers of Silence are consid- 



yS Eastward to the 

ered polluted and live apart, always dress- 
ing in white with faces hidden, their identity 
forever unknown. 

The Parsee is the Jew of India as to 
trade, and has almost excluded that race 
from the land. There are some, however, 
in Bombay, but you do not meet them else- 
where ; whereas the worshipers of the sun 
are every-where. 

The Hindoos are also tall and stately, 
and are the wandering merchants of the 
land (the Parsees are never such, but carry 
on the greater trades in the towns and 
cities). You are at first quite overpowered 
by the dignity of these Hindoo merchants. 
Such salaams, such gestures ! and when, 
after you have finally purchased something, 
for which you have perhaps paid three 
rupees (one dollar), he takes your hand, 
and laying it first on his heart, and then 
kissing it, departs with a deeper salaam, 
you feel very much like a fool, considering 



La7id of the Morning, 79 

the size of the transaction, and the knowl- 
edge you possess that, though he appears 
to so debase himself before you, he would 
no more sit at your table or eat food you 
might give him than he would allow his 
head to be cut off — he would certainly starve 
first. I have offered the most repulsive 
beggars the best of meat and bread, and 
they have, though apparently starving, al- 
lowed the dogs to eat it, while they cast 
looks of the most superb disdain at me. 
To touch it in any way would for them 
mean instant loss of caste, loss of every 
thing in this world and the next. There- 
fore ''welcome death" in its most hideous 
forms rather than that. But let us move 
on. All India — what a feast — is before us. 



8o Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XVII. 

"Dim dawn behind the tamarisks — the sky is saffron -yellow, 

As the women in the village grind the corn, 
And the parrot seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow, 

That the dav, the staring Eastern day, is born." 

^^^X TILL he come, do you think?" 
Y Y '' ^ doubt it strongly, but 
the horses and 'rickshaw are 
ready, and we will go on if he does not." 
It is early dawn at Aboo Roads Station. 
The ever increasing light shows us a wide 
expanse of yellow earth, dotted here and 
there with white houses and the domes of 
many Hindu temples and tombs. In the 
distance one of those terrible Parsee towers 
catches the first gleam of the coming sun, 
while from its summit slowly rise three or 
four hideous vultures, seeking with out- 
stretched necks the advent of their morning 



La7id of the Morning. 8 1 

meal. We stand, anxiously awaiting- an 
overdue train — they are always overdue in 
India — in which our servant, Thomas, should 
arrive, he having been left somewhere be- 
tween here and Baroda. It's not a light 
matter in India to have this happen. I was 
not aware that it had happened us, until, ar- 
riving at a junction where we were to change 
for ''Aboo Roads," I discovered that such 
was the case. As one travels with enough 
to stock a shop, the sudden move was, to 
say the least, confusing. Beds, bedding, 
baskets of fruit and luncheon, bottles of 
milk and tea, an ice chest, satchels, rolls, 
and books, were but a few of the things that 
were suddenly dumped on the platform, un- 
til we wondered if we had not started a ba- 
zaar. No use growling. Thomas was left. 
So we gathered up as best we might, and 
bundled all into another train. 

So strange are the scenes through which 
we pass, that no time is found in which to 



82 Eastward to the 

produce order out of the chaos, and we are 
dumped at Aboo Roads Station in much the 
same state as at the junction. 

''Are those boys in that field?" No, in- 
deed, they are monkeys, at least a hundred, 
and of all sizes and conditions. They must 
be playing ball, for surely that is the umpire, 
whom both sides are abusing, and nothing 
save a sudden spring to a neighboring tree 
saves his hide. Off in a corner sits a wise 
looking mother monkey deeply engrossed in 
the care of the youngest of her family. We 
are tempted to approach, but discretion is 
the better part of valor. One scream on her 
part would bring the entire pack about our 
ears, and monkeys are so very personal, 
even to the taking of one's clothes. As the 
train flies northward we see thousands of 
them, in the country, in the towns, peering 
over the tops of the stations, until it is hard 
at times to distinguish between man and 
monkey. They are alike in color, but while 



Land of the Morning. 83 

the former wears some clothing, the lack 
thereof is forgiven the latter because of their 
much more intelligent faces. About noon 
we are served with luncheon, on a shaded 
veranda — said process being closely ob- 
served by some dozens of natives and mon- 
keys, and four o'clock brings us to " Aboo 
Roads." What a hopeless looking place 
to our Western eyes, servantless and bag- 
gage laden ! What are we to do ? A white 
station, long, low, and cool-looking, embow- 
ered in a strangely beautiful, magenta-col- 
ored vine or flowering tree, whose name we 
have not yet learned. Here for the first 
time we are introduced to a "bungalow," 
that building provided long years ago for the 
weary traveler, in this land where hotels 
were unknown. A half dozen bed-rooms, 
surround a general sitting-room, each with a 
bath-room, so arranged that water would run 
out and snakes could run in — a pastime they 
are very fond of. Hence, though it is winter, 



84 Eastward to the 

we spend an hour calking every possible en- 
trance. 

A wide veranda surrounds the house, 
which is topped by a thatched roof a foot 
thick. The place is dusty and full of the 
shadows of dead and gone " Sahibs," but 
they trouble not us living ones, and I pro- 
ceed in the absence of Thomas to "make 
house" for the night. 

The rooms are provided with a cot bed, 
but bedding of all sorts you must carry with 
you. Even if you visit a private house this 
is the case. Expressing our surprise to an 
Anglo-Indian lady, at this fact, she replied: 
" Oh yes, indeed, because we sometimes 
have to house as many as forty or fifty, 
though we always have cots, we can not 
have bedding for so many." Still, one 
never loses the strange sensation produced 
by hearing women, evidently in high life, call 
to their servants from the car window, 
*' Don't forget to give me my bed." After 



Land of the Morning. 85 

all that old command, *'take up thy bed and 
walk," did not necessitate great labor ; did 
not mean rosewood or mahogany — but 
simply a pillow and comforter. It would sur- 
prise us at home to have ten or fifteen guests 
arrive, followed by a lot of swarthy "coo- 
lies," each bearing a bundle of bedding on 
his head, which is quickly dumped in the 
hallway and guarded by the soon slumber- 
ing servant, but when your guests, bed-time 
comes all is ready and comfortable — so while 
in "Rome, do even as the Romans," sleep- 
ing soundly the while. 



S6 Eastward to the 



"H 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

AS the sahib ordered horses for 
Mt. Aboo?" 

"Yes, but our servant is miss- 
ing; can we go on?" 

"Certainly; he can follow. The horses 
will be here with a 'rickshaw for the lady at 
3 A. M. It is necessary that the sahib climb 
the mountain before the heat comes on, and 
it is not wise to be out after dark, as the 
tigers come up from the ravines." 

So, with every thing in readiness, we three 
stand waiting in the early dawn for Thomas 
to appear. With a puff and a shriek the 
train rumbles in. "Is he there?" "For 
heaven's sake, how can I tell? I don't 
believe the angel Gabriel could pick him 
out of such a crowd." 

There are at least a thousand passengers 



Land of the Mornmg. ^J 

sitting" row after row, in cars that resembled 
American stock cars, and as all have taken 
off their turbans, it is simply impossible to 
distinguish between them. Thomas knew 
this well, and many times I have caught the 
black grinning at my perplexity, until he 
was finally told that if he did not come when 
he saw me I would turn him loose on the 
spot ; but this time there is no trouble. 
There he comes, a tall ghostly figure, in the 
yellow dawn of this Indian morning ; and 
so we start on a visit to Mt. Aboo and her 
temple at Dilwarra. 

The ponies are swift and easy, moving 
with a bird-like motion, which soon carries 
us beyond the confines of the town. Leav- 
ing the hideous ** Tower of the Parsee," 
with its horrid secrets, to our right, we com- 
mence to climb the mountain. Onward and 
upward for fifteen miles, now through a wil- 
derness of palms, and again through a ''wil- 
derness of monkeys." You have simply to 



S8 Eastward to the 

shake the former and out drops the latter. 
I remember one scene on the point of Mt. 
Aboo which rose as a background, while to 
the right, hundreds of feet below us, stretch- 
ing to its meeting with the deep blue sky, 
the yellow plain quivered in the intense heat 
of noonday. Immediately before us stood 
a low thatched hut, over which, bending 
and swaying as in a mighty wind (here 
where there was no wind), rose a stately 
palm tree. No sign of life anywhere ; sol- 
itude most intense had cast its mantle over 
the scene. Suddenly, at the sound of our 
approach, there dropped from the tree onto 
the roof of the hut three gigantic monkeys, 
while from the low door sprang a family of 
wretched grey beings, between whom and 
the apes it was hard to distinguish. The 
effect was weird and uncanny, but it was 
entirely destroyed by the small boy of our 
party asking ''who pulled the string." We 



Land of the Alorning. 89 

laughed, which only increased the gravity 
of these orientals, who rarely smile. 

Another hour's ride brought us to the 
village of Mt. Aboo, so seldom visited by 
the tourist ; yet it is one of the beauty spots 
of the earth, and forever healthy — People 
flying thither in the hot season as unto the 
''shadow of a great rock in a weary land." 
Each house seems perched on its own great 
bowlder — many actually are so — while the 
roads and paths wind around like those of 
an English park. 

Lakes, over which the stately palm and 
mangoe trees are bending, glisten here and 
there in the keen sunlight. It is noon, and 
the air quivers with the great heat. White 
bungalows, embowered in strange shrubs 
and plants, seem the abodes of sleep, and 
deep silence reigns supreme. I remember a 
picture in my geography marked "x-\sia," 
which, as a boy, so fascinated me. Well, 
here is the oricrinal. 

o 



90 Eastward to the 

Even in January the heat is too much for 
us. and an intense sigh of reHef escapes as 
we sink back in the lono^ cane chairs on the 
vine-covered porch of the " Keyser-e-hind " 
Hotel. 

By the way, you should try one of those 
chairs. One can not sit up in them, but oh! 
how you can lie down in them, and one 
does not care to do much else in India. 
Long and low, yielding and fitting into every 
part of your tired body, with long arms 
which are used quite as often for the Ameri- 
can and Englishman's legs as for his coffee 
cup. Take your cigar and try one. You 
are very apt to go asleep, and when you 
awaken you will find you are surrounded by 
a group of dark-skinned figures, crowned 
with gorgeous turbans and clothed in white, 
each resting against a huge pack. Catching 
your eye they are instantly on their feet, and 
with deep salaams beg the Sahib to look at 
what they have, and so, ere long, you are 



Land of the Morning. g i 

absorbed in your first shopping in India, 
which, even to a man, soon grows charming. 
As each pack yields its treasures, you are 
quickly imbedded in Kashmires, veiled in 
silks of Bombay, or tissues of Benares, w'hile 
across your knee is thrown a Bokhara cur- 
tain into which some long dead maiden has 
stitched her very life and soul, pausing only 
w^hen she married, after which it must for- 
ever go unfinished. That is the reason why 
you find most of them in an incomplete 
state. 

I bought a very complete one, and was 
assured by the merchant that •' she very old 
and ugly ; she no get a man." Here are 
also silverware from Lucknow ; brass from 
Benares, and copper of Kashmir, standing 
imbedded in softest carpets from Agra or 
Umritsur. 

" Now% what will the Sahib give for this 
dainty silver bowl ?" 

Beware, these men are rogues. I have 



92 Eastward to the 

had much experience in Egypt, and know 
that if I want an article I must express no 
interest therein, and never offer more than 
one quarter of w^hat is demanded. They 
will protest that you rend their hearts, make 
the flowers wither in Paradise for sympathy, 
and are taking the very bread from the 
mouths of their children. But hold to your 
figure, and shortly, with a profound salaam 
they will lay it at your feet and depart with 
a benediction — to return next day. So it is 
at Aboo. 

The golden glory of the setting sun is 
over all, and deep shadows already in the 
valley before we venture out to explore the 
temples. I doubt if the peerless Taj Ma- 
hal — which we have yet to see — can be more 
beautiful than these sacred shrines of Par- 
swanatha. 

In the Holy of Holies, in each temple, sits 
the god enthroned on a marble elephant, 
with five other elephants on each side. From 



Land of the Morning, 93 

his forehead blazes a great diamond, while 
curtains of marble, so lace-like and delicate 
in their carvings, that they seem to sway in 
the air, hang round about him. The halls 
and corridors of the outer courts eclipse the 
beauty of the far-famed Alhambra. There 
are five of these temples, each seemingly 
more beautiful than the other. 

Though they possess nothing of the grand- 
eur of Karnak, or the stateliness of Athens 
or Baalbec, they are most exquisitely beauti- 
ful, being more after the style of the " Court 
of Lions" at the Alhambra, except that 
while there much is of stucco, here all is of 
the purest marble. 

The Alhambra was erected for the com- 
fort of kings — this to the glory of the gods. 
The Moors have passed forever from Gren- 
ada, but the Jains still worship in these 
halls of Dilwarra. While we of the West 
may enter the outer courts, we can gaze into 
the "Holy of Holies" but for an instant. 



94 Eastward to the 

We are not of the "elect," so we turn away 
leaving" the god to his solemn silence — to his 
deep slumber of centuries. 

With all India before us, it is quite impos- 
sible to linger long on beautiful Mt. Aboo, 
but with Jeypoor to hurry us onward, no re- 
gret can be lasting. Rajpootana, of which it 
is the capital, is a native state, over which 
England has merely a protectorate. We 
shall, therefore, see the Maharajah in all his 
glory. 

Tigers are not infrequently met with on 
the Aboo road. We were told that the 
best way to get rid of them was to either 
''shy" rocks or shake an umbrella in their 
faces. Fortunately, we were not called upon 
to do either, as the royal beast did not favor 
us with a sight of his terrible person. Dur- 
ing the progress of the governors of Bom- 
bay, through these mountains recently, the 
cook was missing when dinner was wanted. 
Going back some distance they found traces 



Land of the Mor7ii?ig. 95 

of a tiger, which, on being followed three 
miles into the mountains, brought them to a 
spot where lay all that was left of the cook, 
the palms of his hands and the soles of his 
feet, parts that for some strange reason, 
known only to himself, the tiger never eats. 
The poor man had been the last of the com- 
pany, and was seized and carried off so 
swiftly and silently that no outcry was made, 
and he was not missed for hours. 

But we reached the railway in safety, and 
finding a train about to start, concluded to 
go on to Ajmere, though we found but little 
of interest there. A few old mosques, some 
immense cisterns, hewn out of the solid rock 
centuries ago, and full of centuries of dirt — 
in fact, nothing to delay us, unless it were 
the garlands of yellow flowers thrown around 
our necks as we left the mosques. 



96 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XIX. 

JEYPOOR. 

HAVING telegraphed for rooms at one 
hotel, we decide, upon arrival, to 
go to another, the Kaiser-e-Hind 
(Empress of India) and come near causing 
a riot thereby. Thomas having ordered his 
washing sent to the first house, the proprie- 
tor thereof declares he shall not have it un- 
less we go there also. That settles it, we 
don't go. Thomas may imitate Adam be- 
fore the fall before we submit to being brow 
beaten. Not that I can see that it makes 
much difference about his clothes. They are 
all white, all shaped alike, and I for one never 
can discover which particular piece belonged 
fore or aft, up or down. 

Our hotel is without walls, literally amongst 
tombs and Hindu shrines, which rise around 



Land of the Morning. 97 

in all directions — strange little pagoda-like 
structures, neglected, surrounded and cov- 
ered with dust ; at night the haunt of the 
jackal, and even of the royal tiger, though 
he does not come often. As I look through 
my window the rising moon throws into 
bold relief the head of a jackal between the 
pillars of a ruined tomb. His weird cry 
makes one glad that the casement is barred. 
He is on his usual quest for dead men's 
bones. As we walk through a garder of 
His Highness, next day, I hear a rush 
through the bushes, and feel something 
which I fancy must be a cat, climbing my 
back, but it is a royal Bengal tiger, about 
two feet long. Playful as a kitten, it turned 
its head to be scratched, and purrs most con- 
tentedly. 

''It must be shut up next month," says 
the keeper, "as it has already tasted blood, 
and is beginning to bite." Suiting the ac- 
tion to the words, he places it in its cage. 



98 Eastward to the 

It immediately commences that restless to- 
and-fro, to-and-fro motion, so peculiar to wild 
animals in captivity. In Jeypoor, as in all 
Indian cities, it is the people that interest 
more than the city. Indian houses are low, 
mean-looking, and of no beauty. Its pal- 
aces, while they make fine pictures, are cheap 
and tawdry. Its architectural beauty is en- 
tirely confined to the temples and mosques, 
while such of the palaces that have any claim 
to beauty belong to the long ago, and only 
make those of to-day more wretched by com- 
parison. This is especially the case in Jey- 
poor. But the people are a study of never 
failing interest. As we approach the mar- 
ket space, so dense becomes the crowd, that 
our carriage moves at a snail's pace. Mo- 
hammedans, Hindoos, Parsee, English, Ben- 
galis, the tribes from Kashmir and the fur- 
ther mountains, in all sorts of gorgeous cos- 
tumes, crowd silently around us. These 
Eastern cities are all strangely silent. Over- 




Friends, pro tem. 



La7id of the Morning. 99 

head are flocks of tame pigeons, under foot 
hosts of beggars. Suddenly, with discord- 
ant clangor through the crowd, which parts 
like magic, sweep five enormous elephants, 
each with a driver seated on its head, and 
holding the sharp -pronged driving fork ever 
in readiness. The foreheads of the beasts 
are painted like Kashmar shawls, while the 
other trappings are of like brilliant colors. 
We are near the entrance of the palace, and 
from its portals comes the Maharajah. In- 
stantly the thousands go down on their faces, 
the five elephants range in line and raise their 
trunks in salutation as His Highness rolls 
by. He is a little fat, bandy-legged man, 
brown-faced, swathed in white, wearing a 
black frock coat, the whole topped by a gi- 
gantic turban, and he lolls back with a most 
comical look of disdain, in an English lan- 
dau. Does he fill your idea of what the Ma- 
harajah of Jeypoor should be? Did you 
expect splendid chargers weighted with jew- 



lOO Eastward to the 

eled and golden trappings ? Did you look for 
a stately Othello with the eye of Jove, be- 
fore whom even you yourself would almost 
bow the head ? If so, your coming is a cen- 
tury too late. I saw all that at the jubilee 
in London, but never in India. These na- 
tive rulers prefer the hard cash to useless 
jewels nowadays — but though those gorgeous 
days of old are gone, much remains, so 
order your elephants for five in the morning 
for before sunrise you must be well on your 
way to the ancient and deserted city of 
Amber. 



La?id of the Morriing. loi 



CHAPTER XX. 

"O'er all there hangs a shadow and a fear, 
A sense of mystery, the spirit davxnted. 
Which seems to say as plain as whisper in the ear. 
The place is haunted." 

HAVING obtained permission from the 
Maharajah, to visit his ancient cap- 
ital, deserted now for two hundred 
years, we started in the early morning to 
avoid the heat. As we approached Jeypoor, 
through a long line of tombs, we saw seated 
on one of them, a cloaked and hooded figure, 
holding a '* cheetah," whose eyes sparkled 
in the ever-increasing sunlight. These ani- 
mals ai*e used to hunt the smaller game of 
the plains and rarely fail in their mission. 
In size they resemble a leopard, and are 
of the same color, without the spots, while 
the ears are pointed like a wild cat's. It is 
a common sight to see a carriage load of 



I02 Eastward to the 

hunters start in the early dawn, with one of 
these fierce looking beasts, with a hood 
drawn over the head, on the box with the 
driver. When the game is in sight the hood 
is withdrawn, and, like lightning, the " chee- 
tali " springs away, while the sportsman has 
nothing to do save watch the chase, which 
generally ends quickly. It is said that the 
beast never attacks the does or fawns — al- 
ways making for the bucks, and if there is 
but one in a herd he will single him out, 
passing by all the rest. 

As we passed through the market-place 
we were favored with another sight of the 
Maharajah, while the people again prostrated 
themselves, until the vast square looked like 
a field of waving grain, and numbers- of ele- 
phants again raised their trunks in salutation. 
Five miles from the city our own beast 
awaited us. What a ride ! Perched on a 
flat seat, with a small railing fore and aft, 
and two swinging boards for the feet (all 



Land of the Morning. 1 03 

called the ''howdah"), we held on for dear 
life — the fall would have been some twelve 
feet, and we might have been stepped on — 
while the huge bulk beneath us rode un- 
evenly forward. How hot the sun was and 
how wretchedly uncomfortable we were, en- 
vying even the crocodiles asleep in the 
waters of Amber! But, it was over at last, 
and we were finally, with snorts and grunts, 
on the elephant's part, and tears of thanks- 
giving on our own, deposited before the pal- 
ace. We decided to walk back. 

Amber, in its location, reminds me of the 
ancient city of Shechem, in Palestine. A 
narrow valley, with high hills on either side, 
and a small lake between. On the highest 
point to the left stands the palace, " clear 
cut against a sky of tawny gold," while up 
and down the hills for miles spreads the an- 
cient city, roofless, tenantless, silent, and de- 
serted by all save the birds of the air and 
monsters in the lake. Weird, fantastic, and 



I04 Eastwai^d to the 

beautiful it looks In the early sunlight, sur- 
rounded by Its almost perfect, though an- 
cient, walls — from whose towers no banners 
'float, no gleam of sclmlter Is seen, no blare 
of trumpets heard. Yet you hesitate to ap- 
proach her portals lest the ghostly guardi- 
ans of the dead, If not the living, forbid your 
entrance, lest you be brought here to this 
altar In her palace courts, and offered up as 
were so many thousands In the days of old, 
a human sacrifice to their gods. The mar- 
ble Is yet dark with blood stains. 

If you are wise, you will turn back now 
and remember Amber as you saw her with 
the mantle of silence thrown over her crum- 
bling walls, but of course you are not and 
will be conducted through many rooms of 
the palace, gaudy, tawdry, and utterly with- 
out beauty. Nothing can make white-wash 
and plaster beautiful, and the Inside of the 
palace is that and nothing more, save where 
in a few rooms, now and then pieces of mir- 



Lmid of the Morning. 105 

rors and colored glass have been inserted as 
decorations only serving to make their sur- 
roundings the more hideous. In bygone 
centuries the life here may have been beau- 
tiful, provided it was utterly unlike that of 
the India of to-day, but it is gone and has 
been gone so long, that these walls bare no 
"touch of a vanished hand," throughout all 
their vastness. Had the palace been allowed 
to go to ruin, it might have become romantic 
and picturesque, instead of that it has been 
white-washed frequently, so nothing more 
need be said. Outside, however, all is 
beautiful. Time has thrown her mantle 
over crumbling towers and ruined stairs, 
over broken casements and stately portals, 
unclosed now for two hundred years. We 
wander off down the mountain, through 
groves of brilliant flowers, past silent fount- 
ains and ghostly lakes, keeping a sharp 
lookout for cobras and crocodiles, now the 
sole inhabitants of Amber. I am told the 



io6 Eastward to the 

place is deserted because it is the custom to 
move the capital every three hundred years. 
I doubt that, as Benares has stood where it 
now stands for something over one thousand 
years before our era. We are forced by the 
heat and the distance to mount the elephant 
again, and he seems to grin with glee over 
the tortures he knows he will inflict. For a 
mile we hold on like grim death, while the 
beast groans, the driver shouts, and the 
ropes creak like those of a ship in a gale. 
Released at last, and fleeing to the shelter 
of our carriage, we are soon back in bustling 
Jeypoor. 



Land of the Morning. 107 



CHAPTER XXI. 

IT is a great relief to get in from the glar- 
ing sunlight to the cool shade of the 
hotel, where we immediately plunge 
into violent altercations with the numerous 
vendors of all sorts of wares, the result 
being a forced purchase of another box in 
which to carry the goods — all of which did 
not cost as much as the box. Still, this 
proves one of the most pleasant parts of In- 
dian travel. The merchants never lose their 
temper, even when they spend hours and 
sell nothing. If they do become indignant 
at your ofter, and after packing every article 
securely, march off with much stateliness, 
then be assured that they will return in quick 
time and take your price, calling down the 
blessing of heaven on so generous a patron, 



io8 Eastward to the 

until you begin to believe that you have paid 
too much. 

Carpets made at the Jeypoor jail are 
noted for their beauty and we go there 
to see them, but the sights and sounds 
that greet us make us wish that England 
would, for the sake of common humanity, 
abolish all these native states, though the 
traveler would lose thereby much that is 
picturesque. Visit this jail and you will be 
more than willing to lose all, that these 
sights and sounds shall vanish from the face 
of the earth forever. 

As we enter we hear that strange cry of 
greeting from the prisoners, *' Ah dow," ac- 
companied by the bringing of the fist of one 
hand into the palm of the other. To your 
right hang carpets of wondrous hues in va- 
rious degrees of completion, one of which I 
order, but the Rajah, shortly afterward 
ordering work for several years, I shall 
never get it. Off in the corner, in a little 




Indian Merchants, Jaypoor. 



Land of the Morning. 109 

six by six cell, open to the hot sun, pelting 
rain, and the gaze of all, a human figure, a 
woman, clings wildly to the bars, greeting 
us with the discordant, hollow laughter of 
lunacy — naked and groveling in filth, eaten 
alive by flies and vermin, seemingly implor- 
ing our help, while it is utterly impossible 
for us to aid her in any way. It is too much, 
and we leave with a strong desire to do 
bodily harm to that little Maharajah that 
passed us yesterday, and with a strong dis- 
content with England, that she will even 
''protect" a place that holds such horrors. 
It almost destroys the pleasure of travel in 
the far East, this constant turning up of the 
terrible ulcer, neglect of the poor and sick, 
that underlies so much that is beautiful, until 
one dreads to contemplate the latter, lest the 
horrors of the former be thrust before him. 
A visit to the art school formed a pleasant 
finale to our stay in this city. There is much 



no Eastward to the 

to interest one — especially in the etchings on 
brass. 

The highest compliment that can be paid 
you here is to send elephants to meet you 
as you arrive. It certainly can not be called 
a " hollow " compliment. As we leave Jey- 
poor, there are six of these huge beasts 
gaudily painted and caparisoned, swaying 
like ships at sea, awaiting some English dig- 
nitary. Heaven help him, one nearly kills 
us. So, with one last glance over Jeypoor, 
with her splendor and misery, to the distant 
mountains, where deserted Amber sleeps on 
forever, we start northward for Delhi. 



Land of the Mornutg. 1 1 1 



CHAPTER XXII. 

DELHI. 

"There, on that throne to which the blind belief of millions 
raised him, sat the prophet chief, the great Mokanna." 

TO one who delights in shopping (and 
every one does so in India), Delhi 
is both heaven and hell, the former 
because of the beauty of the objects, the 
latter because of the vendors thereof, they 
being worse than the plagues of Egypt, in- 
vading not only your hotel, but your bed- 
room (I found SIX in mine when I awoke this 
morning), and clinging to your carriage like 
insects. They know, however, that their 
beautiful Kashmir shawls, ivory work, and 
painted miniatures will, in the end, loosen 
your purse strings, so they don't mind being 
kicked out of your room or beaten off your 
carriage, though the former is apt to spoil 



112 Eastward to the 

your appetite for " choto hazri," and the 
latter ruin your temper for the day. But 
we must see this famous city before we can 
be bothered with them, and a fast pair of 
horses soon carries us to where the traveler, 
standing on the crumbling walls of the fort 
of the ancient, long-deserted, and ruined 
city of " Yudishthira," sees before and 
around him the vast plains of Delhi stretch- 
ing away, a waving expanse of delicate 
green, from which here, there, and every- 
where rise the ruins of seven cities — fifty 
square miles of ruins. Far to the left that 
beautiful fluted column, the ''Kutb Minar," 
pierces the sky, while before you the three 
domes of the great mosque of modern Delhi 
seem to float in the air. 

The architects of Europe and America 
pride themselves upon their work, and they 
have produced much that is beautiful. The 
dome of our capital, of St. Peter's and St. 
Paul's, are certainly so in their way, but to 



La7id of the Morning. 113 

my mind they are not to be compared in 
beauty with the domes of India. Take, for 
instance, those of the Taj and Pearl Mosque 
at Agra, and this great mosque of Delhi, 
and their beauty seems scarcely of this 
earth. As we stand looking out over the 
latter city they rise so fairy-like, so bubble- 
like, that you marvel that the breezes do not 
waft them away. This floating effect is, of 
course, due to their shape, which, on this 
mosque as on many others, seems almost a 
complete circle. Straighten their lines in 
the least and you at once anchor them, at 
once make them of the earth earthy. 

The city is full of interest on all sides, 
both past and present. Here in the fort is 
the famous Pearl Mosque, also that beau- 
tiful Hall of Audience, all glistening with 
marble and precious stones, bearing the 
famous distich, "If on earth be an Eden of 
bliss, it is this, it is this, none but this." 
Here stood the Peacock Throne, that was 



114 Eastward to the 

carried away by Nadir. Mr. Beresford, In 
his "Delhi," thus describes it: 

" In this hall was the famous Peacock 
Throne, so called from its having the fig- 
ures of two peacocks standing behind it, 
their tails being expanded, and the whole 
so inlaid with sapphires, rubies, emeralds, 
pearls, and other precious stones of appro- 
priate colors, as to represent life. The 
throne itself was six feet long by four feet 
broad. It stood on six massive feet, which, 
with the body, were of solid gold, inlaid 
with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. It 
was surmounted by a canopy of gold, sup- 
ported by twelve pillars, all richly embla- 
zoned with costly gems, and a fringe of 
pearls ornamented the borders of the can- 
opy. Between the two peacocks stood the 
figure of a parrot of the ordinary size, said 
to have been carved out of a single emer- 
ald. On either side of the throne stood an 
umbrella, one of the oriental emblems of 



Land of tJie Morning. 115 

royalty. They were formed of crimson 
velvet, richly embroidered and fringed with 
pearls ; the handles were eight feet high, 
of solid gold, and studded with diamonds. 
The cost of this superb work of art has 
been variously stated at sums varying from 
one to six millions of pounds sterling." 

It is gone now, however, and not a stone 
or pearl or bit of gold ever came back to 
this deserted palace, where we wander 
to-day through court after court, hall after 
hall, with walls covered with mosaic paint- 
ing in precious stones — splendor every- 
where — until we feel that we should be 
robed and jeweled in order to be in keep- 
ing with all the gorgeousness around us. 
We owe the preservation of this, as well as 
every other thing of beauty in India, to the 
English, as it seems part of the Moham- 
medan creed never to repair any thing, even 
the temples to God. 

We met to-day in the great street of the 



1 1 6 Eastward to the 

city the " Chandni Chauk," a Hindoo god, 
making his triumphal progress through the 
town. About the size and appearance of 
the world famous and well known figure of 
"Punch," he looked sad and lonely without 
Judy and the Devil — a sort of Othello with 
his occupation gone. Seated in a car drawn 
by many disgustingly painted, dirty, and 
naked priests, and cooled by two others 
waving great peacock feather fans, he made 
his stately (?) progress to the sound of many 
gongs and much music, the whole present- 
ing so disgusting and degraded a picture 
that I was strongly tempted to take a horse- 
whip to the wretched gang, all of whom 
would have fled at the appearance of an 
able bodied man. This Hindoo religion 
strikes me as being most degraded — at least 
all others seem to worship something di- 
vine — while this degrades the people to the 
worship of portions of their own bodies, 
one of their most popular idols being a 



La7id of the Morning. 1 1 7 

model of said portion. To be sure it is 
claimed that this was done in the catacombs 
of Naples ; but, if so, it is a custom that 
has long since vanished from amongst even 
the lazzaroni of that city, degraded as they 
still are. 

At Delhi you first enter the Land of the 
Mutiny, and from now onward until Calcutta 
is reached the very air is burdened with the 
memory of those bloody days of 1857. 
Still a bloody mantle was nothing new to 
India, nor was the carnage of those days 
equal to that one awful slaughter of the 
citizens of this same city by the troops of 
Nadir, when, at his command in 1739, they 
put to the sword for revolt against him some 
240,000 (more than all the English in the 
land at present), and at which time he car- 
ried off some seventy millions sterling in 
treasure. They did not do things in a 
small way during the reigns of the great 
''Moghuls." Still the horrors of '57 were 



1 1 8 Eastzvard to the 

something awful, and as you wander through 
the EngHsh cemeteries of the different cities, 
reading the names of the thousands of brave 
men, to say nothing of the helpless women 
and children who perished then, you can not 
but ask the question, ''Was India worth 
all this ? Can she ever repay the hearths 
and homes of England for the desolation 
she caused them?" Of course she is an 
immense source of income for the younger 
sons of the "mother country," who, by the 
law of primogeniture, are thrown on the 
world to shift for themselves, and nearly all 
of whom, entering the army or navy, spend 
most of their lives out here, where they are 
better paid than at home. So India is a 
vast outlet for this class of men, and is also 
a rich field for the merchant. However, all 
that she has to offer would not induce me 
to live amongst her people, to be hourly in 
danger of a repetition of such horrors. 

But enough of the mutiny now, as it will 



La7td of the Morning, 119 

be impossible to pass Cawnpore and Luck- 
now without almost living over that dark 
period, until the very sunshine will seem 
clouded with its shadow. So let us leave 
Delhi, remembering her as we last saw her, 
resting like a swan on her nest, and flooded 
by the golden radiance of the setting sun, 
that, blessing alike the living and the dead, 
the slayer and the slain, lights our way as 
we speed onward toward Agra, that Mecca 
of all travelers, where to-morrow we shall 
see the ''Taj Mahal." 



I20 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

" One morn a Peri at the gate 

Of Eden stood disconsolate ; 
And as she listened to the springs 

Of life within, like music flowing, 
And caught the light upon her wings. 

Through the half open portals glowing, 
She wept to think her recreant race 

Should e'er have lost that glorious place." 

Agra, y<^;2. 27, 1890. 

IT is not within the scope of mortal pen, 
in any degree to do justice to, or 
clearly describe, this " Crown of the 
Palace." Go back to it again and again, 
spend hours before it in the sunlight, hours 
with the light of the moon casting its soft 
splendor over all, and in years to come you 
will sometimes wonder whether it w^as not in 
very truth a dream — whether there were in 
reality such things there as hard marble and 
harder precious stones. Through a gate- 



Land of tJie Morning. 1 2 1 

way that would, in itself, be a marvel, else- 
where, we entered an enchanted garden, 
where long rows of stately cypress bordered 
sparkling waters, while brilliant southern 
flowers and a rain of roses offered contrast 
to their dark green foliage. At the far end 
arose something white and luminous, and 
we knew we were standing before the 
"Taj." High on a marble platform, guarded 
by four stately minarets, worthy to be a 
mansion of heaven. It would not surprise 
you to see the white winged angels of the 
Revelations appear on the summits of its 
domes, calling with their golden trumpets 
the hosts of heaven from the blue depths 
beyond. In the everlasting twilight within, 
sleeps she for whom it was raised, and by 
her side he who so loved her that he gave 
the best years of his life to the construction 
of this shrine for her body — " Sha Jahan." 
It almost seems that their spirits linger here 
in sweet communion ; you listen wonder- 



122 Eastward to the 

ingly ; are those faint, far off voices merely 
an echo of your own whispers, or '' the fare- 
well sigh of a vanishing soul?" "Only an 
echo," say you? Well, if so, the echo is a. 
seraph, and will not respond to loud, coarse 
notes, even were it possible for you to use 
them here, but, to a note of music it will 
answer again and again, like a voice from 
another w^orld. 

In the surrounding gardens one finds per- 
fect peace and silence. The air is heavy 
with perfume, while the music of the fount- 
ains lulls body and soul into slumber ; the 
heat, the dust, and the glare of India is for 
a time forgotten. Hour after hour passes 
away, still you are loth to leave, and not un- 
til the glory of the sun is passed, and the 
glory of the moon is full upon it, not until 
the white-robed custodian warns the Sahib 
that it is long past midnight, do you move 
reluctantly away, wondering w^hether the 
morrow will not find it all a dream. 



Land of the Morning, 123 

There is much else in Agra of beauty and 
of intense interest. You will spend hours 
in her fort wandering through its deserted 
palaces, and gazing at its pearl mosque. 
You will visit the tomb of the prime minis- 
ter, will take the twenty mile ride to the 
ruins of '' Fathpur Sikri," and the nearer 
tomb of " Akbar ;" you will spend much 
time in delightful quarrels with her mer- 
chants, while you gaze in never ceasing 
wonder and interest at that gorgeous and 
constantly shifting panorama — "the people." 
But, you will return again and again to these 
gardens, will begrudge every hour that you 
are forced to pass without them, and when, 
at last, you must leave them, perhaps forever, 
you will move away in silence, turning again 
and yet again for one glimpse more of this 
vision of heaven — this shrine and this tomb, 
the "Taj Mahal." 



124 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

CAWNPORE. 

" Pray for rescue, wives and mothers — 

Pray to-daj !" the soldier said ; 
" To-morrow, death 's between us, 

And the wrong and shame we dread." 

THE very name makes one shudder, 
bringing to mind, as it does, recol- 
lections of the most frightful scenes 
of the mutiny. It is all quiet enough now, 
and it scarce seems possible that horror 
could have brooded so long over this smiling 
river, the sacred Ganges, which we see here 
for the first time, broad and rapid, with 
waters a beautiful green, rolling away to the 
eastward. On its right bank a small temple, 
with a flight of steps (ghats) to the waters 
edge, marks the spot where Colonel Ewart 
and all his men were so fearfully murdered. 



Land of the Morning. 125 

Just through that archway Nana watched 
the devihsh work. Up that small gully be- 
hind, the women and children were hurried 
to death, and worse than death, while the 
men, having been guaranteed safe conduct 
by Nana, were huddled into boats only to 
be made marks for the deadly bullet, as 
they drifted down the river. Soon the little 
crafts were all ablaze, and the poor fel- 
lows who might otherwise have escaped 
the assassins were driven into the water, 
where the swarming crocodiles finished the 
slaughter. 

We were conducted around the town by 
Sergeant Lea, who passed through not only 
the mutiny, but all other horrors of which 
India is so rife. Amongst the minor, so it 
seemed to him, w^as the loss of his second 
wife and four children, in a few hours, 
from cholera. He mentioned this in a hur- 
ried " aside," seeming to think it of small 
importance, things, as it were, to be easily 



126 Eastward to tJie 

replaced ; at least, he is living with his fourth 
wife — so cholera is not without its benefits 
after all. He told us, among many other 
things, that he brought one day to these 
ghats an English bishop, well versed in the 
languages of India, who, after inspecting 
the temple, asked whether it were under- 
stood what the natives had written all over 
the walls, i. e., " What we did here before 
is nothing to what we will do again," etc. 
So you see the feeling has not and does not 
pass away, and you can not but shudder 
when you think of the handful of English — 
less than 200,000 — surrounded by 150,000,000 
of these terrible people. I may be wrong, 
but to me the situation is full of danger, and 
it is increased hourly by the treatment the 
people receive. If I dared treat an Ameri- 
can servant as these are constantly treated, 
it would end in the courts before a day had 
passed. To be sure, they are most exas- 
perating and stupid. Of course, the general 



La?id 0/ the Morning. 127 

policy of the government is all that can be 
desired, but I refer to that ot individuals. 
For instance, the young officer with us was 
a man generally of the mildest disposition, 
a perfect gentleman and most kind-hearted, 
yet he used such harshness by word and 
act with the natives, that I remonstrated, 
and he acknowledged that it was unwise, to 
say the least. You hear this around you 
constantly, and it is the leaven that affects 
the whole loaf. You may say that these are 
only isolated cases. Granted, but Uncle 
Tom's Cabin was composed of isolated 
cases, and yet I think no one w^U deny the 
part those " isolated cases," through its 
agency, played in our late civil war. It is, 
however, a grand sight to see this mere 
handful of English controlling these teeming 
millions, controlling and educating as fast as 
possible each and all of them, teaching them 
to govern themselves, placing wherever it is 
possible the greatest works of the country, 



128 Eastwai^d to the 

railroads, telegraphs, custom houses, etc., in 
native hands — until, perhaps, in years to 
come, India may forget that she was ever 
barbarous, may no longer rejoice in festivals 
of blood. But she has not reached that pe- 
riod yet, and, if union were possible amongst 
her people, England's rule would go down 
quickly, in terrible carnage. But just here, 
to me, is the secret of her hold — "A house 
divided against itself" — and forever, I fancy, 
for never will Mohammedan do other than 
despise Hindoo, or Buddhist hold either in 
aught save sovereign contempt. So also, 
Bengalese are looked down upon by the 
up country tribes, and Madras is sneered at 
for furnishing servants for '' those dogs 
of Franks " (our own sweet selves). An En- 
glish officer told me lately that it was a com- 
mon thing for his soldiers (natives of course) 
to ask for permission to go down and wipe 
out a neighboring sect or tribe, "just to keep 
their hands in " as it were. He also spoke 



Land of the Morning. 1 29 

of the Hindoos as more apt to cause trouble 
than any other sect ; spoke of them as a 
most discontented people, deep and silent, 
brooding and resentful, and from whom the 
mutterings were so constant that it seemed 
inevitable that trouble, and terrible trouble, 
would come ere long. He even thought 
that they would welcome the Russians. I 
could almost wish Russia would get them, 
not for the sake of progress — God forbid — 
but because she would make short work of 
the whole dirty lot. Then such as were left 
would perhaps appreciate what they had lost 
in losing England. I well remember the 
exclamations of horror during the mutiny, 
when England blew the Sepoy from the can- 
non's mouth. It was absolutely the only 
way to cow or impress these people. They 
did not dread death in the least, but to be 
deprived of the religious rite which follows, 
conquered them utterly. So in Algiers, 
France found that the guillotine had no ter- 



130 Eastward to the 

rors so long as the head was returned with 
the body, therefore they kept it, and Mo- 
hammed, finding no means of hauHng the 
dead into paradise, left them on earth, and 
crime was materially lessened among the 
Moors. Here the tales of blood and hor- 
ror are enough to drive sleep from the eyes, 
even now, and when you stand at Cawnpore, 
where the angel in marble holds aloft the 
symbol of the Christian faith, over the site 
of that awful well into which helpless women 
and children were hurled alive, it is hard to 
keep down the curses. Yet were the hor- 
rors enacted all over northern India, in any 
way to be compared to those done in the 
name of the meek and lowly Jesus, by the 
'' Inquisition," all over Europe, or by our 
own ''Puritan Fathers?" I think not, for 
these were done by barbarians, those by 
men whom the world called '-enlightened." 
The mutiny was from end to end horrible 
enough, but it in no way equaled what this 




Sergeant Lea before the Well at Cawnpore. 



Land of the Morning. ^ 131 

Sergeant Lea would like to have us believe. 
We certainly listened to a thousand and 
one tales, each more terrible than the last, 
the poor old man having evidently told them 
over so many times that he almost believed 
them himself. We learned afterward that 
he had written a book which the English 
call "Lea's Lies." Ah well, much is to be 
forgiven a man who has buried four wives ! 



132 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXV. 

LUCKNOW. 

" Dinna 3'e hear it ? dinna ye hear it? 
The pipes o' Haverlock sovind ! " 

THERE .is nothing of beauty in or 
around Cawnpore, and nothing of 
interest save the memories of the 
mutiny — but Lucknow, though she has 
almost as many sad memories, is also very 
beautiful. Neither of them has any thing 
o{ ancient India about them. The king of 
Oudh built an immense number of palaces 
and mosques in Lucknow, which from a 
distance and in pictures, make it a most 
magnificient city, but approach and you 
will find they are plastered outside with 
yellow clay and inside with white, and 
possess neither beauty nor interest. Since 



Land of the Morfiing. 133 

his banishment to Calcutta he has employed 
his time to much better advantage in raising 
pigeons (some of which were purchased by 
Mr. S., and I have since seen them flourish- 
ing finely at his beautiful ranch in Estey's 
Park, Colorado.) 

On the rising ground near the center of 
the English quarter, tower the ruins of a 
large brown stone mansion surrounded by 
numerous outbuildings also in ruins, the 
whole forming the well known and famous 
" Residency," which for so long and so 
successfully resisted the attack of the muti- 
neers. Left in ruins by England as a warn- 
ing to the people, it looms over all the 
city and the surrounding country. In one 
of its rooms the crazy girl, Jessie Brown, 
heard, long before any one else, the sound 
of the slogan, " the McGregor, the grandest 
of them all," tellino- of the cominof succor — 
of life and more than life to each and all 
of the beleaguered people. Here also Sir 



134 Eastzvard to the 

Henry Lawrence was killed. At Lucknow 
all were saved — at Cawnpore all were lost. 
Let us drop the curtain over those, the 
most terrible days of our century. 

English life seems especially pleasant in 
Lucknow, this capital of Oudh. It is a 
favorite post with the army, and during 
race weeks like an oriental Saratoga, so to 
speak. Its climate is delightful in winter, 
as indeed is that of all northern India — hot 
during the noonday hour, but after and before 
that, simply glorious, with an air sparkling 
and full of life, while at night it is cold and 
fires are always necessary ; nor is it safe 
to go out at any time without extra wraps. 
The drives around the city are beautiful, so 
that we spend much time in the carriage. 
As we are returning one evening about 
sunset, huge flocks of flying foxes or " vam- 
pire bats " pass over us, so low that I can 
almost strike them with my cane. One 
morning we visit the trees where they hang 



La7id of the Mornijig. 135 

during the day by the thousands in a bHnd 
and dazed condition. They are certainly 
most foul and vicious looking things — the 
body and head of a rat with large strong 
wings, and at the extremities of the ribs 
thereof are hooks by means of which they 
move from limb to limb of the tree they ar 
on. It would be terrible to be attacked by 
a lot of them, though I believe they are 
neither fierce nor aggressive. 

Lucknow is enchanting, and we are 
tempted to linger on, but our car awaits us. 
So, after another hour spent in her silver 
bazars we depart, arriving the next morning 
early at Benares, the sacred city on the 
Ganges — the "Mecca" of all the Hindoo 
world. 



136 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

SACRED BENARES. 

THIRTY centuries of uninterrupted 
splendor have rolled slowly away 
since this holy city on the Ganges 
first became sacred unto the Hindoos. 
Five hundred millions of people hold her 
name in reverence to-day. What is Rome, 
with her thousand years and her 200,000,000 
worshipers, to this ? 

Eight hundred years before Christ, saw 
Benares much as we see her to-day, saw 
her streets not only crowded with her own 
people, but with the thousands and hun- 
dreds of thousands of pilgrims that came 
then and come now, to bathe in the sacred 
waters of the river, to carry the water away 
with them unto the uttermost parts of the 
land, to listen to the teachings of her wise 



Land of the Morning. 137 

men, to burn their dead — if so be it they are 
fortunate enough to die while within her 
walls — to worship the stone bull and the liv- 
ing bull, to garland the first with flowers and 
the last also, if he will so permit it, to cast 
their children to the crocodiles in the river, 
and themselves before the car of Juggernaut 
in the street, whilst then as now hosts of 
monkeys looked gravely and contemptu- 
ously down on each and all. Calmly the 
river flowed away bright, blue, and beautiful 
to the sea. Slowly and silently the palaces 
on her banks sank into her depths, only 
to have others immediately built upon their 
ruins, which in their turn sank and sank and 
vanished. Still Benares of that time is the 
Benares of to-day, and nowhere else do you 
so enter into and appreciate heathen India. 
Here in the ''Golden Temple" stands the 
stone bull garlanded in flowers, served with 
the fruits and grains of the earth, and bowed 
down to by myriads of people. Through 



138 Eastward to the 

that door a live bull and family hold 
high court seemingly regarding the devout 
throng with high disdain, and no wonder, 
for look you yonder at that sweet faced 
Hindoo maiden bathing neck and face in 
their offal. From the corners of the roof 
grave monkeys sit in solemn conclave, or 
descend with a rush to steal any thing and 
every thing that you may not be strictly 
guarding. That well in the center is con- 
sidered too sacred to clean, and the stench 
therefrom drives you away, while the scowl- 
ing looks and evident hostility of the people 
make you the more ready to go. 

The city from the river presents a truly 
magnificent appearance. Flights of steps 
(ghats) rise from her waters on either side 
as far as you can see, while above them 
the palaces, temples, towers, and hanging 
gardens are grouped in bewildering masses. 
You must come at sunrise and from your 
boat watch the people as they press in tens 



Land of the Morning. 139 

of thousands down her ghats to bathe 
in the Ganges, after which the person is 
poHshed in oil of the musk flavor, until it 
shines like mahogany, and sickens you with 
the odor. Here a group listen to the teach- 
ings of a priest, while down that flight of 
ghats two men are bringing one of their 
dead, slung in a white cloth attached to a 
pole. If you are rich, you are well covered 
with wood and well burned ; if you are poor, 
the wood is apt to run out, and what is left 
of you is cast to the dogs, as we happened 
to see. Children are never burned, but 
cast to the crocodiles. You are considered 
dead when brought here, and if you show 
any signs of life the priest kindly cram eyes, 
nose, and mouth with mud. If you still 
persist in living, you are transported to a 
valley in the north, surrounded on three 
sides by insurmountable sand cliffs, on the 
fourth by the river and its quicksands, 
there to eke out with other like unfortunates. 



140 Eastward to the 

dead to the world, a miserable existence by- 
snaring crows, etc. Kipling tells of it in his 
"Strange Ride of Mobray Jukes," and it is 
really claimed that such a spot exists to this 
day. However that may be, you are dead 
to the world when once you are brought 
to these funereal pyres. 




Funeral Ghats, Benares. 



Land of the Mor^iing, 141 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

SAILING off down the river we visit the 
summer palace of Ramnagar, where 
nothing of interest is found save a 
tiger, down whose open mouth one can see 
at least a yard. On our return we land near 
the monkey temple. Over the top of a high 
wall two solemn faces, evidently sentries, re- 
gard us for a moment and then scurry away 
with a ''caught in the act" expression, to 
warn those at the temple of our approach. 
At any rate, they are all there, hundreds of 
them, to receive us. Near the gateway sits 
an old man, ready to sell sweets and nuts to 
the visitors for the monkeys. He is sur- 
rounded by the Supreme Court of " Mon- 
keydom," in order to see that he gives full 
measure. He would not dare to do other- 
wise, as he lives in the neighborhood. Once 



142 Eastwai'd to the 

within the temple our Hves become a burden. 
The animals advance en masse, from the 
roofs, from beneath the floors, from the 
Holy of Holies, from the very shoulders of 
the god, and with them come sundry cats 
and old dogs, until, for self-preservation, we 
throw the bags of nuts as far away as pos- 
sible, said action resulting in a civil war, the 
termination of which we do not dare await. 
The beasts became such a torment some 
time since, that the government corralled 
several hundred of them, and took them to 
the mountains in closed wacrons. There 
they were released. They could not be 
slain, as they are held sacred by the Hin- 
doos. Well, every identical monkey got 
back to that temple before the day was 
done. Country monkeys are, as a rule, 
well behaved, and keep to the hills and for- 
ests, but lately, through the failure of some 
food of which they are very fond, they have 
A^entured into the very houses. Only last 



Land of the Aloinimg, 143 

week a lot of them entered a town, and ap- 
proaching a house, sent one of their number 
in to steal any thing or every thing. A loaf 
of bread was soon appropriated, which, upon 
being brought out, mimediately became the 
cause of war. As usual, the " dark horse," 
this time in the shape of a small dog, ar- 
rived, and, seizing the loaf, which had been 
dropped \\\ the scuffle, fled into the house, 
where, in plain sight of the much enraged 
and half-starved monkeys, he proceeded to 
eat it. Did the monkeys retire ? Not a bit 
of it, but remained around that house all 
day long, making most insulting personal re- 
marks to those who came near it, not for- 
getting to shy an occasional rock or two. 
They are, however, on the whole, well- 
behaved citizens, simply insisting upon their 
just rights, as first settlers, and I can not but 
believe that they are rather a more moral 
lot than their Hindoo brethren. Whatever 
their religion is, I doubt if they pollute it by 



144 Eastward to the 

the introduction of the obscene. I was 
shown by the guide, here in Benares, a 
Hindoo temple, covered with the most " un- 
clean" carvings, and being, therefore, es- 
pecially sacred to the people. However, 
that which is obscene to the enlightened 
races of Europe and America is only nat- 
ural, and therefore to be rejoiced in and 
worshiped by the heathens of India. 

As interesting as Benares is to us, a day 
or so of such Paganism is all we can en- 
dure, even though we retreat at night to 
*' Clark's" very delightful little hotel, with- 
out the walls. So we depart with the sun- 
rise, and go down to Mughul Sarai Junc- 
tion, where the Calcutta express soon bears 
us away to the south-eastward. 

While waiting for its arrival I notice a 
commotion in one of the station rooms, and 
upon inquiring the cause am told that the 
station master has "just died of cholera." 
As the weather is quite cool enough for 



Land of the ill o ruing. 145 

overcoats we are not at all frightened. One 
can always find cholera in India, if one looks 
for it, but one soon ceases to dread it any 
more than small-pox in our own towns. I 
should be very much more afraid of the 
fevers of the country, when the great heat 
comes on in April, when the thermometer 
mounts to no, 115, and even 120 degrees, 
and stays there day and night until the mon- 
soon breaks in July. You have very little 
chance to escape unless you fly to the hill 
stations, where, if you preserve your health, 
you will surely lose your reputation, es- 
pecially if you go to Simla, unless society 
has greatly changed of late. Still, you will 
have a very good time during the losing 
process. 

On the journey from Cawnpore to Luck- 
now, a day or two since, there entered our 
car an English lady, handsome, vivacious, 
and evidently out of humor. The cause 

thereof was soon known — excessive indig- 
10 



146 Eastwm^d to the 

nation with her husband, who, " returning 
from home (England) the other day, found 
the house full of the most delightful officers, 
and what does he do but turn the whole lot 
out of doors — even discharged my old serv- 
ants, who knew my ways so perfectly. Now 
he tells me I must live the life of a hermit 
there in stupid Cawnpore. Will I ? Well, 
not exactly — not at least while the races are 
on at Lucknow. He don't know I am going, 
but once there he won't dare to raise a row, 
and he can't shut up a whole hotel, don't 
you know." I confessed he w^as "dreadful," 
yet, from an American standpoint, one can 
not but sympathize with the husband some- 
what. Ah ! well, it's all in a lifetime. 



La7id of the Morning. 147 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

CALCUTTA. 

CALCUTTA, the magnificent. Miles 
of wide streets and avenues stretch 
away in all directions from the 
central point, " Government House," with 
every here and there a monument to the 
dead and gone " Viceroys." Here are War- 
ren Hastings, the Earls Cornwallis, Auk- 
land, and EUenborough, there " Canning," 
and Lords Napier, Northbrook, and Lytton 
in attitudes passive or defiant, mounted on 
magnificent chargers, or standing at ease 
while they gaze with almost life like interest 
on these scenes so familiar to them m the 
flesh. At the end of one long avenue near 
the post-office gleams the monument raised 
in memory of those who in 1756 perished 
in the Black Hole. Away to the westward 



1 48 Eastward to the 

vast forests of masts show where the Hoog- 
ley river, that greatest mouth of the 
Ganges flows away to the sea. Nothing 
save the great full rigged ships come here, 
no schooners or brigs, and it impresses you 
with the fact that you are a long way from 
home and the rest of the world. Nothing 
save such ships and steamships can accom- 
plish the distance and make the journey 
profitable. 

We reached the city early in the morning 
and were driven to that abomination called 
a hotel — the Great Eastern by name ; I 
never entered a viler or more filthy hole. 
As a general thing the Indian hotels have 
been comfortable and clean, but here the 
vermin and filth made it impossible for us 
to remain — roaches as long as your finger, 
poisonous spiders, whose passage across 
your hand at night, though they may not 
bite, will cause a festering sore — dirt and 
confusion and a babel of tongues, which 



La7id of the Mornmg. 1 49 

seemed to cause Thomas to lose what Httle 
sense remained unto him, for many times 
when we were famished I found him running 
round and round a pillar in the halls or 
vaguely wandering up and down waving a 
soup ladle. All this rendered our entrance 
on our return from Darjeeling into that 
haven of rest, Mrs. Walters' boarding 
house on Russell street, most blissful. 
(Poor lady, I am told she is dead now, 
1892). She was a blessing to us in many 
ways, not the least of which was that she 
got rid of Thomas, replacing him by a most 
excellent man, one Sake Baboo by name. 
Calcutta rejoices in a most superb Zoo- 
logical Garden. The animals seem in such 
excellent condition that it is a pleasure to 
look at them. The tigers alone are worth 
the journey too see — one of them is said 
to have killed two hundred natives before 
his capture, which was accomplished by 
means of a deep pit covered by branches 



150 Eastward to the 

on which a dead native was placed As 
the tiger always springs upon his prey, this 
spring was his last, and to this moment he 
gnashes his teeth in impotent rage with 
himself and all who come near him, espe- 
cially against his keeper — so much so that 
I fancy we should, for a time, be safe were 
he to get out. There was also a small 
black monkey that could rival any thing of 
its size for noise that I have ever met with. 
Opening his mouth to a square of goodly 
size, he gave utterance to a series of whoops 
that were, to say the least, surprising. I 
heard them in my room at night, three miles 
away. Then there was a baboon that 
strongly resembled many of our hoary men 
on 'Change, with a degree more of intel- 
ligence in its face. Thousands of birds of 
the most beautiful plumage, and huge dens 
of serpents. We shall see more of these 
gardens on return from Darjeeling, for 
which place we depart to-morrow. 



Land of the Morning. 1 5 1 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

DARJEELING. 

* If down here I chance to die, 

Solemnly I beg you to take 
All that is left of ' I ' 
To the hills for old sake's sake." 

^ / T F master wishes me to go to Dar- 
I jeeling with him, I must get some 
heavy clothes. It is cold, cold in 
the mountains. " Thomas stands bowing 
before me in the thinest of white draperies. 
In our carefully shaded rooms at the ''Great 
Eastern," we are almost asleep ; it is mid- 
day and hot, as hot as in August at home. 
Even this vast caravansary is hushed into 
silence. Here a group of servants flat on 
the floor, there an English officer suffering 
in boots and spurs ; even the ravens are 
asleep, while through the closely jaloused 
windows long rays of light strike full upon 



152 Eastwaj'd to the 

that cabinet in the corner yonder, causing 
its occupants, roaches and spiders, to burrow- 
deeper in the dirt of this vile hotel. 

"If master wishes" — commences Thomas 
once more. Master wishes nothing save to 
be let alone. " Man wants little here be- 
low," but when he has it in the shape of an 
easy lounge in a cool room in roasting 
India — he wants it just as "long" as pos- 
sible. So it is only when sister suggests 
"poison in my tea" as a small attention 
from Thomas, if I cause him discomfort 
(God knows that if I had poisoned him 
every time he has caused me discomfort, 
he would long since be at rest with his black 
ancestors) that I awaken sufficiently to bid 
him be off and get what is needed, which 
he does, and we sleep on until 3 p. m., when 
we start northward and upward, soon to see 
those grandest works of the great Creator 
— the Himalayas. 

Leaving Calcutta, yet scarce awake from 



Land of the Morni7ig. 153 

its noonday sleep, we travel onward through 
dense tropical forests and jungles, through 
groves of palms and mangoes, covered with 
purple vines, while above them tower what 
seem gigantic dead sycamores, yet they are 
all aflame with blossoms like the cactus. 
As night comes down upon us, or rather as 
the brilliancy of the day is exchanged for 
the brilliancy of the moon — the one almost 
equal to the other — we reach the Ganges. 
So broad is the river that ample time is 
allowed for a good dinner, and so slow is 
the train in starting from the other side that 
an excellent opportunity is afforded for a 
most satisfactory " row " with Thomas for 
having lost my bed. As our morning tea 
will be gotten at the railway restaurant 
at Silaguri, he will have no chance to get 
even by the way of poison, so I express 
myself for once, having taken the precaution 
to lock my sister up in the railway carriage, 
so she can not interfere, not beinor able to 



154 Eashuard to tJic 

open the windows thereof. Outside on the 
glistening sands, seated on a pile of bedding 
I "take it out" on Thomas, not only for 
this but all former ills. Before me, white- 
robed and silent he awaits /with bowed head, 
until I am exhausted, then su^rg-ests that 
** If master will please stand up, I think I 
can find it." I have been sittinor on it all 
this time, and for the rest of that trip I am 
an outcast, treated with condescension by 
Thomas and with reproving glances by the 
family, who sided with him, and do not 
forget the locked doors and windows. 
However, I have the satisfaction of having 
told him for once what I thought of him, 
and then again it acted as a safety valve for 
a long suppressed emotion, so the family 
are for a time secure. I remember as a 
boy, yielding once to that intense desire 
possessed by each and all of us now and 
then " to smash something." Seizing two 
Bohemian vases from the basket of a ped- 



Land of the Afor?iing. 155 

dler, left at our old home over night, I fled 
to the back yard, and to this day, the 
intense satisfaction (in no way diminished 
by the punishment I received nor by the 
flight of years) which tingled through my 
nerves as I brought a rock down on each, is 
a joy to me — so it was in my conflict with 
Thomas. 

It is always cold at night during the 
winter here, so we sleep under two rugs. 
Breakfasting at Silaguri in the early morn- 
ing, we enter a train of little open cars, 
furnished with leather arm chairs, and 
raised about a foot from the track, and 
start again toward the mountains. We are 
drawn at a lively speed, through clouds of 
dust, hordes of natives, flocks of parrots, 
vultures, and kites — through tea gardens 
and jungles where gigantic tree ferns, 
twenty feet or more in height, tower above 
us, forming stately avenues up the glades of 
the mountains. Look down that one to 



156 Eastward to tJie 

the right. There go two great monkeys 
arm in arm — a sort of Paul and Virginia 
amongst monkeys, as it were, with heads 
bowed closely together they pass onward, 
oblivious both to the parrots shrieking at 
them from the boughs of the bending ferns 
and to our puffing little engine. 

We commence ere long to ascend, and 
all day wind and twist and turn, now 
making a complete circle, passing over our 
own tracks in the length of the train, now 
ascending by means of switch backs, now 
rushing through the streets of native vil- 
lages, in every one of which as you go 
upward the type of people changes, from 
the naked blacks of the plains to the wild 
and fur-clad people of far Thibet. Onward 
and upward until with a final turn you are 
in the heart of the mountains, in the pres- 
ence of great Kinchenjanga, towering so 
far above you that it seems almost a portion 
of another world. Surely if the Taj is a 




The Women of the Mountains, Darjeeling. 



Land of the Morjiing. 157 

"mansion of Heaven," this is the sanctuary 
of the most high God." GHttering masses 
of snow, great chasms and crevasses, soH- 
tude never disturbed by the foot of man, 
heights where human Hfe can not exist — a 
subHme grandeur and majesty that strikes 
you dumb, and dumb you remain while m 
the presence of these wonders of God. 
Every wind seems full of mystery, every 
murmur of the primeval pines to whisper, 
"Before Abraham was, I am." 



1 =; 8 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXX. 

FROM the point of the Senchal, you are 
shown a distant peak, Mount Ever- 
est, but, being nearly one hundred 
and forty miles away, it is but a spot on the 
great range. Still, it is the highest mount- 
ain on the globe. As you stand on Senchal 
(a cliff of the "Table Rock" order, 8,000 
feet above the sea) immediately before you 
mountains fall away, ridge after ridge, valley 
after valley, in rapid succession, until almost 
the level of tide-water is reached. Even 
from here, all the gorgeous colors of the 
tropics are to be seen, then rising abruptly 
through the cooler shades of the temperate 
zone, mountains are piled upon mountains. 
That little one yonder is higher than Mt. 
Washington, that next overtops the Matter- 
horn; Mt. Blanc would hide his diminished 



Land of the Morning. 159 

head before the next, while up there, where 
the snow has fallen for ages and will fall for 
ages, until heaven and earth shall pass away, 
ten thousand feet higher than Popocatapetl, 
towers great Kinchenjanga, 29,000 feet above 
the sea, or more than twice the height of 
Mt. Blanc. This height is attained within 
two hundred miles of tide water, and not 
after the long, gradual rise of a vast conti- 
nent. Can your mind grasp it? I think 
not. No mere lot of figures can ever, in 
any degree, enlighten you as to the majesty 
of Kinchenjanga. I had read of it, studied 
it, but never in any way appreciated it until 
I stood awe stricken in its majestic presence. 
Beyond lies the, to us, unknown and un- 
knowable land of Thibet, where your life 
would not be worth a moment's purchase, 
and to reach which you would have to pass 
the gorges of yonder mountains. So you 
will not go. The very air seems written 
over with ''thus far, and no farther." The 



i6o Eastward to the 

"government" of China is here, in solemn 
high conclave, with England in hopes (on the 
part of the latter) of opening up the only 
known pass to the other side. They claim 
that Thibet will offer vast fields for com- 
merce if they can only get in, but China has 
not given her permission, and it will probably 
take her some thousands of years to think it 
over. 

It is cold in Darjeeling. Thomas was 
. right as to the necessity for clothes. We 
are dressed like Polar bears, and still shiver. 
This hotel, "The Woodlands," is poorly 
built, and possesses a most independent and 
disobliging landlord. Still, it is well worth 
one's while to endure almost any thing in 
order to see these mountains. Go to Sen- 
chal once more, and before the sun rises, 
watch the world of snow around you awaken 
from sleep, as the shadows of night are ban- 
ished by the coming of the day. The 
grander mountains are already awakened 



Land of the Morning. t6i 

and Kinchenjanga glows and quivers as in a 
mighty conflagration. Far below, the val- 
leys are shrouded in mist, that ever rising 
and rising, as the air grows warmer, finally 
dashes like the billows of a mighty ocean 
against the sides of the mountains — now ris- 
ing and falling as the ebbing and flowing 
tide, now met by a cold blast from the re- 
cesses on high, rolling downward in a vast 
cataract of foam-like clouds, then rising, 
rising upward and upward, until peak after 
peak is hidden, until at last only the crown 
of Kinchenjanga is left unshrouded. Soon 
that vanishes and you gaze into chaos. So 
it will remain all day, for the powers of 
nature are jealous and allow you but pass- 
ing glimpses of these, their great master- 
pieces. 



11 



1 62 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

ON our return to Calcutta we go at 
once to Mrs. Walters, and are most 
delightfully cared for. Here we 
part with Thomas, and one "Sake Baboo" 
enters our service. He really understands 
and anticipates our wants, and moves quickly, 
though he does not believe in spoiling me. 
No matter how much I resent the intrusion, 
he will insist upon coming into my room be- 
fore 6 A. M., and immediately proceeds to 
''keep house," so to speak, all the while 
murmuring something about "Missus" and 
" tea," until the latter being ready, I find my- 
self suddenly elevated into a half-sitting 
posture, and feel the delicious beverage 
pouring down my throat. So, you see in 
India, you have merely to. open your eyes 
and see, open your mouth and be fed ; there 



Land of the Morning. 163 

is nothing else you need do, save bargain 
and quarrel, and no free born American ever 
deputes his right to get into a fight to any 
one else. These poor servants are satisfied 
with little, indeed. A rupee a day {^2>Z cents) 
for wages, and eight annas a week (16 cents) 
for food, and they are happy. Having made 
Sake Baboo a present of two or three rupees, 
he is ours for life, and we hear him telling 
some other servants that we are " almost 
like Royal Family." He does not waste 
much time in confab, but orders me into my 
bath, assuring me the while that there are 
no snakes in the bath room. Soon we are 
out, and rolling along with all Calcutta, 
drinking in the early morning hours, the bet- 
ter to be enabled to stand the heat which 
follows. In an old-fashioned barouche, which 
forces you to lean back at an angle more 
magnificent than comfortable, and to assume 
a most ''scornful" position of the head, 
drawn by two fine horses, with two men on 



164 Eastward to the 

the box, and two standing footmen behind, 
all clothed in white and wearing gorgeous 
turbans and sashes, we roll along feeling 
very much as though we had joined a circus, 
and wondering what they would say to us at 
home. For the whole of this, if I remember 
rightly, the charge is " three rupees per 
hour." Morning and evening are spent in 
this wise, and you never become weary of 
the sights and sounds — never lose the feel- 
ing as though moving in a dream. 

Sake Baboo was of much service when I 
came to ship my cases homeward. I scarcely 
think I could have gotten on without him. 
He packed them entirely and attended to 
marking, etc., but I was forced to put them 
through the custom house myself. The 
steamship company would not have accepted 
them unless accompanied by a customs re- 
ceipt. Though there were no export duties 
to pay, the red tape to be gone through with 
was appalling. I was forced to spend some 



Land of the Moi-jiing. 165 

five hours, during the heat, dancing attend- 
ance on the officials, obtaining signature 
after signature and not paying a rupee, be- 
fore I could get a bill of lading. One old 
and fat Indian official was most aggravatingly 
deliberate, until I fancy I showed some im- 
patience, when he quietly remarked, "You 
would wait for your lady love, so why not 
take a chair over this." I did so. How- 
ever, it ended at last, and I had the satis- 
faction of seeing the cases disappear into 
the hold of this good ship, the "Peshawur." 
They will reach home long ere I do, as they 
go backward through Europe. 



1 66 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

BAY OF BENGAL. 

IT is midnight when we board this P. O. 
S. S. " Peshawur," and having made 
Sake Baboo rich for Hfe, watch him as 
he waves us farewell from the top of a mov- 
ing dray. We can not sail before daylight, 
as no ship dare attempt the navigation of 
this river by night. What a relief to be 
once more surrounded by English servants, 
though we forget ourselves now and then 
and astonish them by gestures, words, and 
actions only suitable to "up country." 

Early dawn finds us well under way, and 
by II A. M. we are off "the sands of James 
and Mary," where ships have been capsized 
and utterly destroyed in eight minutes. 
Leaving Calcutta at 7 a. m., we are thirty- 
six hours in making the eighty-eight miles. 



Land of the Morning. 167 

Tigers are so plentiful on these shores that 
it was necessary to build a wall around one 
of the light-houses. Here is also the tele- 
graph office from which the operator wired 
to the head office in Calcutta, " Please 
give instructions. Will have to leave soon. 
There is a tiger jumping around on the 
platform." I fancy if I had been that man 
I should have done much more lively jump- 
ing than the tiger. I never did believe that 
story of Buddha's quietly yielding his body 
to save a tigress and her young from death 
by starvation, at least not after I had looked 
a full yard down the throat of that one at 
Benares. 

We are forced to anchor in the river all 
night, being too late to cross the bar. One 
of the ships of the Apgar line passes near 
us bound for China, and we wave a farewell 
to our friends on her deck, whom we shall 
not see again until far Hong Kong be 
reached. 



1 68 Eastwaj^d to the 

It has been our fortune heretofore to meet 
most deUghtful people in India, people au 
fait to the world, and its movements, but on 
this S. S. are the most stupid lot of English 
to be found above ground. They seem to 
have lived a life here shut off from all man- 
kind, and ask questions about events so 
long dead and gone that one stares in amaze- 
ment. Traders, all of them, I fancy, people 
who have not been out of India for many 
years, and who have lost all track of the 
outer world. Still, in these days of tele- 
graph and steam, such things should not be 
possible. I am asked to-day, by an anglo- 
Indian judge, whether " each and every rail- 
road in America does not own its own judge, 
before whom all cases in which said road 
are concerned are tried, and who always de- 
cides in its favor." I laugh in his face until 
the thought strikes me that perhaps he has 
heard something of the government of the 



Land of the Morning. 1 69 

city of New York, and gotten it mixed with 
the country at large. 

There is also an old marchioness on board 
who is kindly taking care of a sick soldier 
who, worn out by years of this terrible cli- 
mate, has been forced to leave his wife and 
family and start homeward in the, as I 
learned afterwards, vain hope of regaining 
his health. He died, and was buried at sea, 
near the "Gate of Tears." Another, a rich 
young fellow, is troubled with heart disease, 
and a fiancee (and her family.) The former 
killed him near Port Said, while the latter 
had to walk home from Marseilles, possess- 
ing no cash of their own, and the steward 
having ''sealed" the effects of the dead man. 
There is also the usual " enfant terrible," 
named Launcelot Trelauney, as was so 
stated on a card about a foot square, which 
he presented to each and all of us with the 
request that we "would not forget it." No 
danger, at least for those of us whose heads 



17^ Eastward to the 

he trod on as he chased the ship's cat across 
the awning. When we leave the vessel at 
Colombo, he has cut the buttons off of most 
of the officers' coats, thrown shuffle board 
and quoits, together with several life-pre- 
servers overboard, and asked Judge M., 
whose ship-chair he had smashed, to "give 
him one sweet kiss." I believe he is going 
home alone, and I have not the least doubt 
but that he will get there. I know that 
during that week's sail from Calcutta, he 
caused us to grow much graver and older, 
than nature intended, and we feel, as a lady 
said to me at home the other day about her 
mother-in-law, who, like the poor, was with 
her always, that she " did not wish the old 
lady to die, but she did think she might 
travel y Launcelot Trelauney was travel- 
ing, and, to our misfortune, on the same 
ship with ourselves. We have also on board 
some of those strange and unhappy looking 
** Eurasians," a race produced in the old 



Laud of the Moiniing. 1 7 1 

days, when England was six months away 
around the Cape of Good Hope, and India 
was " exile for life," by the intermarriage of 
the English with the natives, the result being 
an unhappy lot of people, placed very much 
as are the mulattoes in our own land, 
scorning the natives and not tolerated by 
the English. They have no place or po- 
sition. The English speak of them as being 
" touched with the tar brush," or as possess- 
ing six, eight, or ten " annas to the rupee," 
according as they range toward white or 
brown. Some of them are prosperous, 
even wealthy, but forever carry the low- 
ering brows and sullen looks of discontent. 
Surely they can not be greatly blamed there- 
for. Taking them altogether w^e have ar> 
odd ship load. Each and all declare they 
have left India forever. The judge has even 
sold house and contents, and with the most 
solemn avowals never to see the country 
again, has set sail for home. (I inquired for 



172 Eastward to the 

him at his club in London the following year, 
only to find that he had returned to the land 
of heat and tigers months before). So it is 
with all of them I fancy. Indian life is so 
entirely a life of indolence that it utterly un- 
fits you for any other. In England you will 
find half a dozen servants in a moderate 
sized house, while the same house in India 
would have thirty or forty, each with his 
particular piece of work, which he attends to 
daily, doing nothing else. Your body serv- 
ant will prepare your bath, but the scaven- 
ger must empty it. You are waited on hand 
and foot, never doing any thing for yourself 
or others, and you soon learn to love the 
life of " dreamful ease," until a change be- 
comes an impossibility. 

" Gray dusk behind the tamarisks — the parrots fly together, 
As the sun is sinking slowly over home ; 
And his last raj^ seems to mock us shackled in a life-long 
tether. 
That drags us back howe'r so far we roam. 



Land of the Mornimg. i ']2) 

Hard her service, poor her payment — she, in ancient, tattered 
raiment — 
India, she the grim stepmother of our kind, 
If a year of life be lent her, if her temple's shrine we 
enter, 
The door is shut — we inay not look behind." 



1 74 Eastwai^d to the 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE waters of this Bay of Bengal are 
as placid as a mountain pool, but 
come to this latitude during the 
monsoon, in July, when whole towns are 
blown away, in an hour, when no ships can 
live, when even the beasts of the earth are 
driven to cover, and you will doubt whether 
the land or sea ever knows a peaceful mo- 
ment. The very names of Pondicherry and 
Madras bring to mind nothing save whirl- 
winds and destruction, tidal waves on sea, 
pestilence and horrors of all sorts on land. 
We do not leave the ship at Madras, as 
there is little or nothing to see, and we are 
worn out vv^ith what we have seen — mind 
and body will stand no more for the present. 
I think this journey around the world is well 
enouorh for once, but I should not care to 



Land of the Morning. 175 

make the '' circle " again. Make rather two 
trips of it and rest between them, for you do 
reach a point where you must rest, when you 
can not enjoy any thing more. Let the first 
trip be from Brindisi to ''Colombo," in Cey- 
lon. After visiting that island of enchant- 
ment, cross to the mainland and explore 
southern India, visiting Tuticorin, Trichi- 
nopoly, and Ootacamund, thence to Madras, 
where I should take ship to Calcutta, visit- 
ing Darjeeling from there. Returning to 
Calcutta you can take ship to Burmah, re- 
turning again to Calcutta. Then start north- 
westward taking in all the points of interest, 
Benares, Lucknow, Cawnpore, Agara, Gwa- 
lior, Delhi, Umritsur and Lahore. Turn 
southward from there to Jeypoor, Ajmere, 
Mt. Aboo, Baroda and Bombay, by which 
time you will be ready to return to Europe. 
You will have seen all you can digest and 
you had better go home and think about it. 
When you start again, let it be from Victoria 



176 Eastward to the 

direct to Hong Kong, visiting from there 
Canton, then turn northward to Shanghai, 
take the Japan ships to Coby and Nagasaki, 
thence to Kiotio and through the country to 
Yokohama, Tokio, and sacred Nikko, after 
which your homeward bound ship will be 
welcome. 



La7id of the J^Ior7iing. 177 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

" The drift of the Maker is dark, 
An Isis hid by the veil.'* 

BETWEEN Ceylon and Hong Kong 
there is absolutely nothing of inter- 
est. It is a two weeks' sail, and the 
heat may prove terrible, to some of you — it 
came very near being fatal to one of my 
party. I certainly should never take an in- 
valid over that portion of the tour again. 
As for the seasons — on the former tour Cey- 
lon should be reached in December, allowing 
you to leave Bombay, not later than the 
middle of March, for the heat comes on in 
April. For the China tour, Victoria should 
be left in February, allow^ing March for 
China, and an entrance into Japan about 
April I St, when the cherry blossoms are 

in all their glory. Still I would " put a gir- 
12 



178 Eastward to the 

die around the earth once." That " there is 
no education Hke travel" is not a new say- 
ing, but you will never appreciate the full 
import thereof until you take a journey 
around the world, for only on such a tour do 
you see all lands and all peoples — "at 
home." Your religious belief will also be 
strangely affected. I do not say it will be 
shaken or upset, but you will realize that 
your religion is only one of many, and not 
the only one, as you have heretofore thought. 
You may travel in Europe and the Americas 
forever, you may even go to Egypt, and 
still be possessed with the feeling that your 
belief is the great and only one — the most 
overpowering one in all senses, for whether 
Catholic or Greek or Protestant we have 
really but one belief, God above all, Christ 
and him crucified ; but come here to India, 
and you are among 150,000,000 of people, 
in China, 450,000,000, while Japan and the 
islands of the sea add millions more to whom 



Land of the Morning. 1 79 

the name of Christ means nothing, and has 
scarce been heard of. The Mohammedans 
do beheve in God, but the Hindoos and 
Buddhists, Shintos and the Confucians cer- 
tainly do not. It gives you such a terrible, 
baffled, hopeless feeling to look into all these 
faces, realizing that they live and die as 
their ancestors have lived and died for ages, 
in as perfect faith and trust in their creed as 
we have in ours. Are they lost, think you ? 
I was once told by our rector at home that 
all who died without the pale of our belief 
were lost utterly, whether their opportunities 
of knowing thereof had been many or few. 
But is our religion any more the correct one 
than theirs? If so, would the great Creator 
of all allow so many more millions of his 
creatures to die outside the "true faith" 
than within its pale? Would he leave to 
one small portion of mankind the salvation 
of the great majority, while in the mean- 
time so many millions are living and dying, 



1 80 Eastward to the 

and, as some believe, being lost eternally ? 
Surely not; surely "deep below as high 
above, sweeps the circle of God's love," is a 
better, brighter, and far happier creed. 

After a journey such as this you come 
home with a greater toleration for all men 
in all things great and small, but with an in- 
tense pity for the helpless, utterly helpless 
and hopeless, missionaries sent here from 
every land to battle with these terrible odds. 
They are waging a war and bearing trials 
and suffering that can not in any degree be 
appreciated by those at home, while through 
it all runs the hopeless feeling of failure, the 
almost certainty that those who seem to be 
converted only assume it through interested 
motives, for money or good stations. They 
constantly have relapsed into the belief of 
their fathers when their teachers were with- 
drawn, and India would relapse to her bar- 
barism if England were to desert her post. 



Land of the Morning. 1 8 1 

For these men who strive so hard in the 
service of the great God, I can think of no 
more fitting epitaph than that all-sufficient 
one to Sir Henry Lawrence, at Lucknow : 
*' Here lies one who tried to do his duty." 



1 82 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

"We have drunk of the Lethe at length; 

We have eaten the lotus. 
What matters it now for us 

That sorrows are born and die 
We have said to the dream that caressed, 
To the sorrows that smote us, 
Good night and good-bye." 

FOR the first time since leaving Egypt 
we are awakened by the pattering 
rain drops, now faUing softly, now 
rushing and roaring. Suddenly they cease, 
and the brilliant tropical sunshine floods 
harbor, mountains and city. Almost before 
you have commenced to enjoy it, on comes 
the rain once more, and again the sunshine 
follows. So it goes on forever on the shores 
of Ceylon — alternately smiling and weep- 
ing, sunshine and storm. Of course all 
this moisture and heat produces the most 



Land of the Morning. 183 

luxuriant vegetation ; every thing seems 
sprouting and growing until you look aloft, 
almost expecting to find all covered by a 
vast roof of glass. The temperature of 
Colombo never varies the year round. To 
me it would prove, as do all moist, hot- 
house like heats, most exhausting, and as 
there is nothing to detain you there, let 
us take the train for the ancient capital, 
Kandy. Here is the Ceylon of your 
dreams. On the porch of its quaint little 
hotel we spend a week doing nothing at all. 
I scarce know how to describe Kandy. 
Strange that this workaday world should 
possess a place where all the people seem 
children out for a holiday. Even the con- 
victs have a good time, and lie around 
under the trees all day doing nothing, 
save laughing, eating, and sleeping, whilst 
closely guarded by one keeper armed with 
a green and white umbrella, which is ap- 
propriated by the prisoners to their own 



184 Eastwai^d to the 

use frequently ; so, if you want to go to jail, 
come here. 

Imagine Central Park in a nook of the 
mountains, with here and there a picturesque 
house embowered in flaming flowers and 
sheltered by stately bamboo trees ; there a 
bit of sparkling water, with a vista of a 
tropical town, one storied, white and silent, 
with great masses of crimson and purple 
vines tumbling here, there, and every-where. 
Even the parrots are asleep, and arouse 
themselves w^ith a clatter as the tom-toms 
from the temple of Buddhah awaken them. 
That is Kandy, that is Ceylon ; so you will 
lie back in your chair sleeping and dream- 
ing, thanking the Lord for a life so sweet. 

Here is the first Buddhist temple we have 
met with. There are but one or two in 
all India. It contains the sacred tooth of 
that prophet, also the imprint of his foot, 
a yard long. The creed in many of their 
works seems singularly pure. That they do 



Land of the Morning. 185 

not believe in a personal God is fully set 
forth when they state that he is ''a gigantic 
shadow thrown across the sky by ignorant 
minds." May the unseen powers, what and 
wherever they be, help us if this is the case. 

We are seated one day on the porch of 
our hotel dozing, as people are apt to do in 
Ceylon, when a native, carrying a small 
green parrot on a stick, passed along. 

*' Uncle, I want that parrot." 

" How will you get it home ? " 

" Why, just as easy as any thing ; such a 
little parrot." 

Whereupon, not thinking it will be ac- 
cepted, I offer a rupee, and find the bird 
ours. The cage cost three rupees, and the 
steward from Colombo to Hong Kong got 
a pound for the care thereof, so that before 
Polly became an American citizen she cost 
something like %2o. She is alive and well, 
and goes by the name of Polly Kandy, but 
like many snobs does not tell what her 



1 86 Eastwa7'd to the 

original worth was, enlarging greatly upon 
her after costliness. She could speak Cen- 
galeese, but for many months no English, 
and I do not think she will ever do much 
of it. (I never look at her without deep 
feelings of reproach. Having a bottle of 
ammonia in my hand one day in Hong 
Kong, I allowed her to take a sniff thereof, 
which almost settled Polly Kandy. How- 
ever, that was many weeks later, and when 
she was somewhat accustomed to the hard- 
ships of travel.) Now, as I return from my 
room, where I have carried her, the peaceful 
stillness of the night is suddenly broken in 
upon by barbaric clangor, and we start down 
the street hatless, to be present at whatever 
may be on hand. Flaming torches throw a 
weird light over a circle of natives intently 
watching the motions of a trio solemnly 
performing their famous " Devil Dance." 
Stripped to the waist, well oiled, garlanded 
with yellow flowers (the Buddhist color), 



Land of the Mor?ii7ig. 187 

with brazen jars on their heads, over which 
yellow flowers wave and nod to the music, 
they are performing a species of stately 
minuet, with the salutations left out, one 
carrying a huge cleaver with which to anni- 
hilate the prince of darkness. As we ap- 
proach, the circle separates for us, and 
perched on a stone block we look on as 
honored guests. Of all strange sights in 
this fairy land this is the strangest. We, 
with our prosaic traveling dress, the people 
with scarce any kind of a dress, the religious 
rite so solemnly performed yet so grotesque, 
the intense stillness of the southern night 
broken only by weird chanting or the call 
of an awakening parrot — all seems almost 
to force our senses into slumber, while high 
in the heavens flames the southern cross. 
There is some enchantment in the air. 
We must leave, or the power to do so will 
desert us forever. 

Here in the gardens of " Peradenia " waves 



1 88 Eastward to the 

the upas tree ; but, though death would 
surely resuh from a night under its branches, 
it would come in the form of the graceful 
but deadly cobra, which here abounds in 
such numbers as to render entrance after 
sunset certain death. In our walk around 
the lake at dusk eyes and sticks are con- 
stantly on guard. Strange that a land so 
beautiful should hold such horrors under 
every leaf and twig. Still the beauty of 
Ceylon is soul-satisfying and never to be 
forgotten. Now, as we watch it sink into 
the western ocean, it seems more dream- 
like, more heavenly than ever. There at 
last is a spot where one would willingly 
live life over. 

" Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice 
Might be a Peri's paradise." 



Land of the Alorning, 1 89 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

S. S. MERZAPORE. 

IT is interesting to watch the inspection 
on Sunday morning of the crews of 
these EngHsh ships. From the first 
officer down to the lowest Lasckar, they 
must stand in Hne, while the captain passes 
slowly before them, minutely inspecting each 
and every uniform, or rather costumes, for 
no nation or S. S. line ever adopted some 
of these remarkable productions. Near me 
the first officer, correct in every point, stands 
at " attention," in his spotless suit of white 
duck, with cap of the same material. Next 
comes the doctor, a dashing blonde, a man 
of the banjo, and a great favorite with the 
ladies. There is also the purser, much of 
the same type, while the engineer is not en- 
tirely sure that he has gotten all the oil off his 



190 . Eastward to the 

hands. After the long Hne of stewards and 
stewardesses, comes the crew, natives, all of 
them, and robed in all the colors known to 
man. There stands one in white Indian 
dress, over which he has donned an old 
dress coat, while his feet rejoice in an ab- 
sence of stockings and in a low pair of pat- 
ent leather shoes, with green cloth tops. 
On his head a turban of gorgeous colors 
and aspiring character, mounts and twists 
and turns, ending finally in a peak of crim- 
son so high up that its wearer can scarce 
pass under the awning. In fact, many other 
turbans down the line are crammed against 
said awning, much to the annoyance of the 
wearer, who, obliged to stand erect, in the 
presence of the captain, can not escape the 
plunges of the ship's cat, who always takes 
Sunday morning and this particular moment, 
for an airing on the upper side of the canvas. 
The man's costume must have come partly 
from Egypt, partly from Ceylon, and — yes. 



Land of the Morning. 191 

certainly that coat first saw the light in our 
own blessed land — Kansas City, I should 
judge by the cut. The last in the line is a 
small black boy, who possesses just one 
garment, which was never intended for the 
use to which it is being put. That makes 
no difference to him, however, and as the 
captain, in his glory of white and gold 
passes him, he is quite the most erect of 
all. After inspection is over, church comes 
on, conducted by a preacher from the west 
somewhere, and who is bound to convert the 
most of China, and do it on the rules laid 
down by his congregation in Kalamazoo. 
Our chairs are too long and easy for church, 
and the most of us are soon in dreamland, 
only to leave it at the summons to luncheon. 
It is very hard to make such a ship load 
awaken to the dangers and horrors of '' Hell, 
fire, and damnation," when they are so 
comfortably drifting over this beautiful 
world given us by the great Creator. So, 



19- Eastwm'd to the 

with thanks to Brahma for having made it 
all, with firm trust that "Shiva" will pre- 
serve it all, let us leave "Vishnu" in his 
abode of gloom — the hour of destruction is 
not yet. The sea is as placid as a summer 
lake. Faintly outlined on the horizon to 
the north of us, lie the Nicabar Islands, still 
inhabited by cannibals, to whom we would 
prove most welcome. Soon Penang (the 
hottest spot on earth, and yet many English 
live and enjoy life there), and Singapore are 
passed, and we have turned the corner ; 
henceforth every revolution of the screw 
carries us to cooler climes. Now the people 
change ; gone are the white-turbaned Indi- 
ans, while sad-eyed Orientals, in strange 
looking junks, drift past us. These junks 
are wonderfully built, all of elastic wood 
cleated together, and able to outride the 
strongest gale. This ship, on her last voy- 
age, passed one during a typhoon, not a 
soul visible, driving under sail hither and 



Land of the Morning, 193 

thither over the trackless ocean. After re- 
peated signals one man appeared for an in- 
stant, and waving the steamer off vanished 
again. Surely this is the acme of fatalism — 
"What is to be, will be." "I have not 
made the world, and he that made it will 
guide." 

How the little island of England stretches 
her hand over all the great world ! She is 
every-where, while we are nowhere. We 
have been traveling for months, through 
many lands, and have seen many peoples, 
but have only been greeted with one pass- 
ing glimpse of our own flag, on the Hoogley 
river, and thoroughly out of place it seemed. 
The polar star rides higher and higher in 
the heavens, while the southern cross sinks 
lower and lower. We shall not see it at all 
to-morrow night. Now the waters have lost 
that placid, sleepy look, and the waves 
break merrily, as we enter the harbor of 
Hong Kong. 
13 



194 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 



CHINA. 



// A ^ KUM " is pious, if he swindles 
y\ you while guiding you through 
old Canton. He will do it with 
most pious mien and devoutly clasped hands 
on which the long pointed finger-nails curl 
with a strong suggestion that he would like 
to try on you " an outside barbarian " the 
famous death of a thousand pieces. 

Leaving Hong Kong last night when the 
setting sun was turning the mountains of 
her peerless harbor into gold, we steam up 
the eighty miles that separate that English 
city from this town of ancient China, Can- 
ton. The change in climate is as great as 
the change in cities. There all was balmy 
and beautiful, and, lured by the climate of 



Land of the Morning. 195 

a May day, I came off in a light spring suit. 
Imagine my dismay to be awakened by the 
howHng winds of winter. If it had not been 
for a bottle of whisky purchased instanter, 
and a ship's robe kindly loaned by a lady on 
board, I should have seen naught of this 
quaint and curious city, and all day long we 
three, bottle, robe and man, travel in close 
communion in a sedan chair through mile 
after mile of her streets, so narrow that my 
extended hands could touch the buildings 
on either side. It is marvelous the speed 
and endurance of these chair bearers. At 
a rapid trot all day long they carry me 
through the mazes ol this wonderful city, 
until my mind seems to lose all sense of any 
thing save a confused mass of ever-changing 
color. Now you leave the streets and are 
borne through cool, green lanes to the 
pagoda of the five stories, from which all 
Canton is visible, encircled by turreted walls 
and pierced by the shining river. Here and 



196 Eastward io tJie 

there rises a pagoda of many stories and 
colors, but the general impression is a vast 
expanse of dull gray roof, with scarcely re- 
lief of any sort. Outside the walls as far 
as the eye can penetrate sleep the dead in 
their horse-shoe-shaped tombs. Naught is 
sacred in China save the dead. Living, you 
are nothing, dead, you reign supreme. It 
would scare conduce to your comfort to un- 
derstand what is flung at you by these 
hostile people as you pass among them. 
It would not be safe for you to walk, and 
you can not go into the interior at all. If 
you sail up any of the rivers your boatman 
is answerable with his head to your consul 
for your life. I asked an Englishman to-day 
how he liked his voyage of twelve hundred 
miles up the Yangtsy Kiang. " Oh, very 
much." 

'' Was it not dangerous ? " 

'' Oh yes, indeed, we never left the boat 
but once, and then had rocks thrown at us." 



Land of tJie Mornmg. i(^y 

From all I could gather there is nothing 
interesting in scenery or people to repay for 
the fatigue and danger. Every face in Can- 
ton seems hostile, and oh the odors ! Noth- 
ing is thrown away. Every thing is carried 
through the streets generally in pails strung 
on poles and hung over the shoulders of 
coolies, who take no pains to keep you from 
falling therein, and I know would take the 
greatest delight in dashing the vilest stuff 
into your face ; especially do the ladies ex- 
cite their wrath. 

In Canton you find the most marvelous 
embroideries, both old and new. The 
Chinese possess no idea of perspective, 
but they are miarvels at execution and imita- 
tion. The life on the Pearl river is not to 
me a pleasant sight. The stream itself is 
filthy, the boats squalid, and the people seem 
very depraved. They say there are fully 
half a million that never come ashore. Here 
are the house boats, here are also the famous 



1 98 Eastward to the 

and inlamous flower boats, here is every 
sort of vice and disease that the sun shines 
on — so let us leave it and go back to Hong 
Kong, from which to-morrow the " City of 
Rio " will carry us northward. I am forced to 
give up Shanghai and Pekin. I suppose I 
ought to deeply regret it, but I do not. 
One Chinese city is quite enough, and Can- 
ton is by all acknowledged to be the city of 
China for quaintness and interest. Hong 
Kong is beautiful, and like Yokohama, half 
English and half Chinese, though owned 
and controlled by England, being one of 
the treaty ports. Her harbor is acknowl- 
edged to be the grandest on the globe and 
is certainly most beautiful. Entirely en- 
circled by lofty mountains, with space for all 
the navies of the world, with its lively, 
bustling, and beautiful city and thousands 
of ships, it forms a charming and delightful 
picture. It should be a most healthy spot, 
yet it is quite the reverse. Low fevers pre- 



Land of the Morni?ig. 1 99 

vail and a decidedly unhealthy condition of 
things generally. I regard ourselves as 
extremely lucky in having escaped the al- 
most universal fate. Unless greatly occu- 
pied in business it would be a place of 
deadly monotony. There is but one drive 
of some four miles, very beautiful truly, but 
after all, very like a scene from a theater. 
It is the great mart for sandal wood, that 
most delicious of all perfumed things, also 
for those sweet scented camphor woodchests 
such as every old uncle in every old time 
novel used to bring back with him, hence I 
bought one myself. 

You will spend much time in the shop of 
*' Sun Shin " trying to beat him down in 
prices, but you are not now in India and the 
** heathen Chinee " is equal to you. If your 
purchases are many he will allow you " dis- 
count for cash," but things are his way now, 
not yours, as they have been for so long. Still, 
you will come away ladened with exquisite 



200 Eastward to the 

embroidery on satin and crepe, with rolls of 
the famous " Canton crepe," with carved 
ivories and sandal wood, until your camphor 
wood chest is crammed full. These China- 
men will imitate any thing you possess. Of 
course you remember the story of the 
Englishman who wanted a new pair of 
trowsers and gave the tailor an old and 
patched pair as a pattern. Well, the new 
ones were an exact copy, even to the 
patches. I noticed that the bills of fare in 
the hotels had numbers opposite every item, 
and that orders were not given for soup, fish, 
etc., etc., but for Nos. i, 3, 5, 18 and 26, as 
the taste dictated, and there never was any 
mistakes made by " John." 

Farewell to China. I agree with Bayard 
Taylor, " It is a good place to leave." 



Land of the Morning. 201 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

CITY OF RIO. 

THE coast of China, to our left, is 
shrouded in mist as we steam north- 
ward from Hong Kong, while that 
city rejoices in a bath of sunshine. Un- 
healthy though it was, it had proved a pleas- 
ant spot for the week of our sojourn. All 
of these treaty ports are pleasant. The 
English are always glad to see you, and the 
Chinese who reside amongst them seem to be 
of the better sort — seem to have lost much 
of that nastiness which renders China, pure 
and simple, so disgusting. 

" Sun Shin " was certainly a jolly-faced, 
kindly-disposed merchant, and gave you 
full worth for your money, while he gently, 
but firmly gave you to understand that he 



202 Eastward to the 

was neither Bengalese nor Cengalese, and 
that you need not, therefore, waste your time 
and his own by trying to beat him down. I 
chanced to go back to his shop during the 
meal hour one day, and found him seated, 
together with four of his sons, at a beautiful 
teakwood-table, and eating rice with chop- 
sticks of ebony from dainty bowls of porce- 
lain. Every thing about him was clean and 
wholesome. How different from the squalor 
of Canton. However, he has vanished with 
so many other picturesque figures of this 
tour into the bottomless well of the past, 
leaving only the dainty odor of our sandal 
and camphor woods to remind us of the 
pleasant moments spent in his shop. The 
rest of the morning was passed in a ride — 
not the first by any means — around the only 
drive of the city, "The Happy Valley," and 
now we are steaming northward, leaving, as 
it proved, all the sunshine behind us until 
Japan be reached, some five days hence. 



Land of the Morning. 203 

These are dangerous coasts, dangerous to 
navigate, dangerous because of the many 
pirates that swarm these waters — in fact all 
China carries on that trade. The " San 
Pablo " was wrecked here not long since, 
and her officers and crew were obliged to 
use their fire-arms to protect their lives and 
personal property. As for the ship, she 
was so completely "looted," that the winds 
and waves found little to destroy. I can not 
say that I am pleased with this Pacific Mail 
S. S. Co. The officers are all polite and at- 
tentive, but the ships thereof seem conducted 
in a shiftless manner that does not give 
one that sense of security always felt on 
English vessels, all of which seem thor- 
oughly manned and guarded like " men of 
war," while these — well, during the storms 
on this particular sail, we all had the feeling 
that we were "going it alone " — that it was 
"hit or miss," as it chanced, and in the case 
of the " San Pablo " it was '* miss," with the 



204 Eastward to the 

results already described. You will find 
both in Hong Kong and Yokohama, that 
when you tell people that you are going on 
this line, they will invariably appear sur- 
prised, and question your reasons therefor. 
Even in the case of the superb new S. S. 
" China," such was the fact. She w^as a 
most magnificent vessel in every sense, and 
cost much money, but he captain, in a 
slouch hat and hands deep in his pockets, 
gave the key-note to the entire management. 
Americans, English, every one, in fact, will 
recommend the other lines, and now\ that 
these superb Canadian ships have appeared 
on these waters, our one poor line will stand 
little chance, and a great pity it is. 



Land of the Morning, 205 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

" Cradled and rocked in Eastern seas, 
The islands of the Japanese 
Beneath me lie." 

I AM awakened in the early morning by 
a sudden blow from something thrown 
into the port-hole — a bunch of superb 
white camelias — while at the same moment 
a voice cries, '' Ohio, Ohio." Most remark- 
able ! How did he find out that was my 
native state ? How did he know who I was 
or where I was, and who is he pray ? I am 
not left long in doubt. Two brown hands 
cling firmly to the vessel's side, and soon a 
dusky, smiling face, topped with bristling, 
wiry, black hair, peers at me from the sun- 
shine without, and a cheery voice assures 
me that "me more better rickshaw boy in 
all Yokohama," asking at the same time 



2o6 Eastward to the 

whether he shall '' come up top side." 
Away beyond him sharply outlined against 
the sky rises the peerless sacred mountain, 
'' Fusijama," while in the foreground spreads 
Yokohama, embowered in a mass of cherry 
blossoms. The air is full of the freshness 
of spring, all the languor and lassitude of 
the south is gone, and I rise to a new life in 
the " land of the morning " — Japan. 




•*Me more better Rickshaw Boy in all Yokohama." 



Land of the Morning, 207 



CHAPTER XL. 

JAPAN. 

" On the white sands of Homoko 
Past the bridge of Negishi, 
Stood a little maiden idly 
Gazing o'er the summer sea. 
Gazing at the white sails gliding 
To the distant fisherj' — 
Round the point of Tomioka came the jobbling of the sea." 

I THINK the great charm of Japan Hes 
in the fact that death seems to have 
no part or place there. Every-where 
else the wide world over, its presence is 
paramount — in Europe, through the hideous 
cemeteries and crowded cathedrals ; as in 
Egypt, all is of the long dead past. Look 
from your windows in India and nothing 
seems visible save the shrines of the dead. 
Of all sizes and conditions they seem to 
crowd upon you from the stately Taj to the 



2o8 Eastward to the 

humble funeral ghat on the banks of the 
sacred river at Benares. China is one vast 
necropolis, and even in our own grand west- 
ern forest the dead seem every-where, but 
here in Japan they have no part or place. 
Now and then you come upon a little pile of 
stone too close together to allow of a human 
body, and mostly unmarked. They are not 
*' set apart," but are in the midst of the 
houses. All the time of our sojourn we 
did not see a funeral. The gay life bubbles 
and sparkles around you, even the boy who 
hauls your " rickshaw " smiles as he runs 
away with you. Flowers bloom in all di- 
rections ; here the stately camelia, there 
great masses of cherry blossoms, and again 
the flaming azalia, backed by garlands of 
wistaria, while all around are sparkling 
waters, and in the distance against the deep 
blue sky gleams their peerless mountain, 
Fusijama. All is light, laughter and happi- 
ness — that is Yokohama, that is Tokio, that 



Land of the Morning. 209 

is Japan. You live your days in and out, 

grateful for your mere existence. For once 

you have forgotten there is care and trouble 

in the world ; once more you are a child 

again. Only when the ship moves under 

you, and when, looking abroad over the 

waste of waters, you realize that Japan has 

vanished, do you awake to the fact that you 

are surely not thirteen, but thirty. Yet 

Japan in no degree compares with the other 

countries in interest. Europe, Egypt and 

India are a constant feast to the mind, while 

Japan simply lulls the senses. I defy you to 

remember the names of her rulers or to take 

any interest in her past. You can not force 

yourself to think of them as a great race 

that have done deeds of daring and valor ; you 

are strongly tempted to laugh at their high 

sounding war ballads, etc. They are a race 

of paper dolls and most delightful paper dolls. 

I fear to enter their houses, dreading that I 

may upset the entire concern. Standing the 
14 



2IO Eastwai^d to tJie 

other day with an English friend in one of 
the streets of fairy Kiotio, we were re- 
quested to move on as we were " stopping the 
commerce," having formed with our over- 
coats and umbrella a complete blockade of 
the street. Again I hear " Ohio, Ohio," 
but being informed that it was the Japanese 
for "how do you do," I go to bed with a 
degree less of self conceit. 

I was awakened to-day by some one sing- 
ing " Sweet Bye and Bye " under my win- 
dow. A drunken American sailor stood 
there, happy as only a drunken sailor can 
be, and expressing his happiness by the 
song, while he at the same time evinced his 
high appreciation of the natives by trying to 
kiss every woman that passed. All went 
well with him until there came along as 
hideous an old hag as it has been my fortune 
to see. She checked his enthusiasm for a 
moment, but with a motion which expressed 
determination to be perfectly impartial in 



Land of the Morning. 211 

his distribution of favors, he threw his arms 
around her neck and gave her a most re- 
sounding smack. All the while there stood 
looking on, one o{ those funny little police- 
men, utterly helpless to protect the women 
from insult or save himself from the gross 
indignity of having his cap seized and put 
on again wrong side in front, or being made 
to take a sudden promenade around the ad- 
joining lamp post. In the end a rickshaw 
boy gets both into his concern and runs 
away with them probably to one of the many 
bath houses here — most curious contrivances 
all of them — a large room, in the corner 
of which is a sunken tank for hot water ; 
while on either side are shelves for cloth- 
ing, one for men and one for women, and 
here, at any time of the day or night, you 
may see from twenty to fifty of all ages and 
sexes bathing together. Yesterday one of 
the largest establishments was invaded by 
a band of drunken Russian soldiers who 



212 Eastwai'd to the 

proceeded to drive the occupants into the 
street, in which they were entirely successful, 
much to the horror of my Httle nephew who 
happened to be passing in a rickshaw. 
Surely modesty is a matter of cultivation, 
or, perhaps, of certain religions. In India 
and all Moslem lands to expose the face is 
most immodest, while here it is only of later 
years that men could be forced to wear any 
sort of raiment, and even now in the pro- 
vinces they discard it utterly. These bath 
houses are found in the center of all the 
tea houses in which you sleep, and you soon 
learn to think nothing of all this — soon 
learn to apply the proud motto of England 
to customs new and strange to you. 



Land of the Morning. 2 1 3 



CHAPTER XLI. 

NIKKO. 

" Through the stillness swam the song of summer birds." 

LEAVING the tea-house in a drizzHng 
rain, we start on our thirty-six mile 
ride in rickshaws to sacred Nikko. 
Two men are required for each vehicle on 
such a journey. Moving onward at a rapid 
trot, they bring us to the town in time for a 
two o'clock dinner. The way lies over a 
broad avenue bordered by double rows of 
magnificent cryptomeia, a tree of the ever- 
green species, very like the cypress seen in 
Turkish graveyards at Constantinople, but 
here grown to an immense height. As we 
speed away the low lying country is all 
ablossom with the glories of spring ; vast 
yellow blankets formed by the flower of the 



214 Eastward to the 

** rafe," are thrown broadcast on a ground 
of delicate green, dancing waters are bor- 
dered with the flaming azalia, while the dis- 
tant mountains rise against the delicate blue 
of a rain-washed sky. Now the sunshine 
bathes all in a golden glory, only to be 
chased away by the mists and falling rain. 
Pausing for an hour about noon, the rick- 
shaw boys produce from somewhere about 
their clothes boxes of luncheon. I have 
often watched to see where they were car- 
ried, but am even now none the wiser for my 
pains, but as the boxes are of wood we do 
not hesitate to devour their contents, wash- 
ing it down with tea which, as prepared by 
the natives, tastes like straw-soaked water, 
possessing none of the rose-leaf flavor of 
that of Ceylon. Soon we are again enroute, 
and in due time reach the holy city of an- 
cient "Nippon," the Westminster Abbey, so 
to speak, where for centuries her Shoguns 
have slept the sleep of the just. Long 



Land of the Mo^niing. 215 

flights of stone steps, old and moss-grown, 
lead up to strange looking shrines in bronze — 
fantastic, lantern-shaped structures, standing 
in small inclosures, the approach to which is 
guarded by dozens of other lanterns like- 
wise of bronze, and placed there in memory 
of the lesser dignitaries, the whole watched 
over by the murmuring pine trees, whose 
voices have the sound of the distant ocean. 
Here and there stands a Shinto Temple 
richly carved and gilded, but the buildings 
are but few. The royal dead sleep verily in 
the "first temples" of the great Creator. 
Here also you see the sacred dancing girls, 
each on a small, open stage, before which 
projects a platform for the reception of the 
offerings. Deposit there a piece of money, 
be it ever so small, and she will arise and 
dance for a few moments in a weird, phantom- 
like way, all the while chanting monoto- 
nously in a faint, far-off voice, now louder, 
now softer, until finally it mingles with the 



2i6 Eastivard to the 

music of the forest, and then dies away into 
silence. Moss-grown dragons, in stone and 
bronze, throw jets of water high in air, 
flowers bloom in great masses, while the 
melody of song-birds once more greets our 
ear — how sweet the sound after all these 
months in the hot lands where the birds are 
silent. ' 

Suddenly the great bronze gong/rom the 
adjoining temple warns all that the hour has 
passed, the sun has set, and that we must 
leave the dead to their solitude. 



La7id of the Morning. 2 1 



CHAPTER XLII. 

A JAPANESE In his native dress fits 
into the landscape, but Europeanize 
him and he is most supremely ridic- 
ulous, especially does this seem to be the 
case at sacred " Nikko." After traveling 
all day through these grand avenues of 
trees, and, coming at last to this holy of 
holies, this shrine and these tombs, to meet 
a native in a tall hat upsets you completely, 
so you return to your hotel and take out 
your ill humor trying to beat down the prices 
of the vendors of monkey skins and other 
furs. You ride sixty miles in a rickshaw to 
see Nikko, and though you would not miss 
it for worlds, nothing could induce you to 
go again, for a tall person will be very much 
cramped in these rickshaws, and if the 
weather is wet you are strapped in by a 



2i8 Eastward to the 

leathern apron, and now watch out, for this 
is what " rickshaw boy " has been waiting 
for — here is his opportunity for vengeance 
on account of the many times when you 
have forgotten that he is a man not a horse. 
Suddenly he will drop the shafts and dart 
away, while you as suddenly turn over back- 
wards until you stand on your head. You 
won't get hurt as the hood will protect you, 
and it is useless to kick as he will only 
laugh. Its done and over, and you are once 
more right side up before you fully realize 
what has happened, while with words and 
gestures he offers the most humble apologies 
but his twinkling eyes give him away. This 

happened to Mrs. S on our return 

from Nikko. Her husband — bursting his 
bonds — belabored the boy until the blood 
flowed, and on arrival at the junction we 
were all taken before the local powers who 
soon dismissed the case with a sharp repri- 
mand to the culprit, and we returned to 
Yokohama. 



Land of the Mor7img. 219 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

JAPAN is fast loosing its Oriental char- 
acteristics, fast becoming civilized, fast 
losing all beauty save such as God 
gave and man can not take away. I sup- 
pose it is better, I suppose the people are 
happier, but they neither look it nor do they 
act it. My own guide, a most excellent 
fellow by the name of Mitsue, was wretchedly 
unhappy in his European clothes, and 
seemed another being in his picturesque 
native dress which I insisted upon his wear- 
ing. 

Yokohama is largely European, Tokio is 
new and rather uninteresting, but Kiotio is 
the Japan of fifty years ago. See it as I 
saw it buried in its mantle of cherry blos- 
soms, full of light and laughter, quaint 
customs and curious peoples, and you will 



2 20 Eastward to the 

never forget it. Here men and women are 
as brilliant in dress as is the peacock ; the 
babies in their funny Japanese robes and 
gilded doll babies strapped on their backs, 
make you roar with laughter, while they re- 
gard you with wide-eyed solemnity seemingly 
wondering what ails you. The first thing 
the people do in the morning is to take down 
the entire front of their houses and the whole 
life therein goes on in full view of the passer 
by. Entering a tea house you notice first 
the bath house in the middle, open to the air 
of heaven, open also to the gaze of any 
occupant of the house. Around it runs 
what appears to be a porch laid in large 
squares of matting. As bedtime approaches 
screens of matting are run in between each 
square and in front, thus transforming them 
into sleeping rooms, into which are placed 
tw^o mattresses, the one to sleep on, the other 
as a cover. If you are English you get a 
feather pillow, if '' Jap " a wooded one, and 



Land of the Morning. 221 

if the fleas let you alone all goes well, un- 
less the next square happens to be occupied 
by a family of Japs (probably some fifteen 
or more). Japs are like chickens roosting in 
a tree, if one wakes, the rest do likewise, and 
cackle and crow indefinitely. Its apt to 
happen most any time, its sure to happen 
frequently, and is not altogether conducive 
to sleep. Remonstrances are useless, they 
won't know what you mean. *I tried it ; gave 
the partition between us a fling and de- 
livered quite an oration. They listened in 
silence, and then came in my room en masse 
to see what was the matter. I sat down in 
despair and waited. They evidently thought 
I had lost something, for they turned and 
shook every thing there, and retiring spent 
the rest of the night talking about it. Sleep 
was out of the question, nor was my tem- 
per improved by having my room suddenly 
taken to pieces in the morning, forcing me 
to make my toilet in full view of the town. 



222 Eastward to the 

Had I been a Jap I should have attracted 
no attention ; as it was, the process was 
watched with the deepest interest by some 
fifty people, who every now and then would 
exchange remarks of the " I told you so " 
order. 




Street Scene in Kiotio. 



Land of the Morning. 223 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

YOSHAWARRA. 

(the qLARTER OF THE LOST.) 

SO it is pronounced, at least, though I 
never have been at all certain as to 
the correct mode of spelling that 
name, and it is a quarter in Yokohama 
about which one feels a certain amount of 
delicacy in making inquiries. I never could 
find the place in the daytime, nor do the 
rickshaw boys appear to know any thing 
about it before dark. But enter a "rick" 
after dark and whisper the name in the 
boy's ear, and he will run away with you 
through so many strange streets and 
squares, over such unknown rivers and 
creeks, that you are almost tempted to call 
the police, until you remember that you can 
jump out without any chance of danger to 



2 24 Eastward to the 

yourself; also, that the rickshaw boy is only 
about half your size. So you hold on 
tightly to the frail vehicle as it rocks from 
♦ side to side with the rapid motion. It 
seems abominable, when you first enter 
Japan, to have human beings take the place 
of horses, but they appear to have such a 
good time over it that you soon lose all 
feeling in the matter. They will haul you 
all day long for seven cents an hour and 
laugh the entire time, so don't waste any 
tears on the "rickshaw boy." He will have 
a better time in life than you will and live 
longer. Now with an extra rush he plunges 
into a dark archway, beyond which seems to 
be a portion of the city en fete. Outside all 
was darkness ; here every thing is blazing 
with light. The houses on each side look 
like scenes from a theater, except that every 
house presents the same scene. The entire 
front is of glass, while inside, facing you, 
each with a lighted brazier before her, sit 



Land of the Morning. 225 

ten, fifteen, or twenty girls in a row (accord- 
ing to the size of the house), all dressed in 
the most fantastic Japanese costumes — just 
such as we see on the fans. The lights 
shining on the other side of the glass of 
course prevent their seeing you, but, together 
with all the other thousands who throng 
the streets, you have a most excellent view 
of each and all of them. It is the quarter 
of the lost, or so we should call them at 
home, though they are not considered as 
such here, and many a Jap comes here to se- 
lect his wife. Young girls are brought here 
by their parents and regularly sold to the 
keepers of these houses, and no disgrace is 
considered to attach to the life they have 
led. House after house, square after 
square, present the same picture — rows of 
girls on the inside, crowds of Jap men on 
the outside, and not one face in all the 
thousands possessing to our Western eyes 
the slightest individuality or expression. 
15 



2 26 Eastward to the 

Never a smile on any of them, rarely a 
sound to be heard, until you rub your eyes 
in a half belief that you are dreaming, that 
they must be the fantastic figures from some 
great magic lantern. I was told that many 
of these girls never leave the house after 
they enter it, and none leave Yoshawarra 
without the consent of the police. They 
did not seem human to me, and I remember, 
during a dance that was gotten up for us at 
Kiotio, three or four perched on my knees, 
shoulders, in fact all over me. I could have 
walked around and not felt the weight in 
the least. They reminded me much of two 
of my mother's parrots that used to travel 
all day on my shoulders. Each carried a 
little guitar, and it was very funny to see 
them dance in their brilliant dresses, of the 
richest crepe, which clung closely to the 
figure until the floor was reached, when 
they spread out a foot or more, as much in 
front and at the sides as behind. With 



Land of tJie Morniiig. 227 

sashes of heavy silk and hair full of gold 
pins and combs, they strutted and attudi- 
nized while they tinkled the guitar, sang 
love songs in squeeky little voices, and cast 
sweet glances over in our direction, until we 
were convulsed with laughter. 



2 28 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XLV. 

KAMAKURA. 

WE have been out all day some thirty 
miles from Yokohama, under the 
shadow of the great idol of 
*' Kamakura," probably the largest image in 
the world. It is made of bronze, and is 
cast in a most comfortable sitting position, a 
very necessary posture for a stay of so 
many centuries. Entering through an arch- 
way in its back, we climbed all over and 
through it. The inside, with its galleries 
and ladders, looked much like the pictures 
of Mammoth Cave — on a small scale, of 
course, though as idols go, there is nothing 
small here, the head alone being as large as 
a good sized room. There is nothing awe 
striking or majestic, as is the case with the 
Sphinx. The face is heavy and the eyes 



La7id of the Morning. 229 

possess none of that far-away, thoughtful 
expression so marked in the wizard of 
Egypt, but rather an over-fed, sleepy look, 
as though there was nothing in heaven of 
an exciting nature — nothing on earth worth 
living for save a good dinner. Still, it has 
seen strange sights in its time, one of them 
being a tidal wave that carried large ships 
miles inward from the neighboring ocean 
that we hear moaning in the distance. The 
attendant priests — Buddhists, of course — 
earn a wretched existence by taking photo- 
graphs. They would not accept alms, and 
we therefore allowed them to take our 
pictures. Perched on different portions of 
the god, we presented a most absurd sight. 
Still, our best friends would not know us, 
and the poor priests seemed very grateful 
for the small amount paid them. We left 
the presence of the god, hoping that he 
also would justify the means because of the 
end. I doubt it, as it is ever hard to 



230 Eastward to the 

forgive having been made ridiculous, and a 
large sized pair of rubbers (on the feet of a 
small boy) sticking out near one's nose is 
apt to produce that effect. The " white 
sands of Homoko " spread eastward and 
westward here, and away to the south 
glitters the slumbering ocean, peaceful and 
quiet just now, but the typhoons that sweep 
over these coasts are something awful in 
their suddenness and fury. The gnarled 
and twisted pine trees all around us bear 
witness thereto, giving the landscape an 
aspect gloomy and dark, almost like one of 
Dore's illustrations of the Inferno. But 
raising your eyes above the foreground, you 
see, as you see from nearly all points of the 
land, the cone of Fujiama, beautiful enough 
to be a portion of heaven. It was not far 
from here that the ''City of Tokio " was 
wrecked. She ran aground on a calm 
night, so softly and with so little jar that 
those on board were scarce conscious of the 



La7id of the Momiiig. 231 

fact. The boughs of the trees swept her 
deck, and to them the passengers and crew 
owed their safety later on. No danger 
. seemed possible, even though a typhoon 
soon sprung up ; but with the changing of 
the wind to directly an opposite quarter, as 
always occurs in such storms, the water was 
piled over the vessel in such immense 
masses and so suddenly that those on board 
saved themselves by means of the branches 
of the trees. The ship vanished utterly in 
almost less time than it takes to tell of it. 
There are no signs of storm now, and the 
moon rides grandly above as we return to 
Yokohama, where we are treated to an 
earthquake. We do not greatly mind it, as 
the hotel has grooved rafters, and we are 
assured that it will " stand no end of a 
shake" — in fact, has stood many. Still it is 
not conducive to sleep, this habit the furni- 
ture has of changing places, and when your 
washstand advances majestically upon you, 



232 Eastwai^d to the 

I would advise you, if still in bed, to get up, 
for at the moment of contact you will surely 
get w^et. I happened to be in the bar the 
other day when a quake came on, and I 
noticed that in this case the old topers 
present immediately moved to that quarter 
of the room toward w^hich they thought the 
counter would advance — so each man saved 
a bottle. Quiet being restored, the bar- 
tender proceeded to take stock, and did not 
hesitate to make very pointed remarks 
concerning the number of missing bottles 
** destroyed by the quake, of course," and 
the fact that the floor showed no evidence 
of such destruction. A diversion was 
created just here by the entrance of some 
traveling showmen and four or five mon- 
keys, all of whom were ere long in a most 
gloriously intoxicated condition. 

Soon father monkey proceeded to exer- 
cise that undisputed right of all men, for, 
seizing a stick in one paw, he chased his 



La7id of the Morning. 233 

''auld woman" over chairs and under tables 
until finally he ran her down in a corner, 
and the raps fell thick and hard until, 
though convulsed with laughter, we were 
obliged to interfere. She seemed strongly 
to resent the interference, and growlingly 
departed, holding her red and black dress 
up around her neck, while her bonnet hung 
down her back by its strings. Nothing 
of the "Romeo and Juliette" about that 
couple — they had settled down to the hard- 
ships of practical life. 



2 34 Eastwa7^d io the 






S(j 



"In the year of 737, A. D., Emperor SHOMU, being a 
bigot, caused numerous monasteries to be erected over Japan; 
this monastery, the KOTOKUIN, at KAMAKURA is one 
of these monasteries, built bj him in such an early period. 
In this ancient monastery the enormous bronze image is 
standing and is noted for its grandeur. This image, which 
was built by Ono Goroj'emon, a famous bronze caster, under 
the order of SHOGUN MINAMOTO no YORITOMO 
in the year of 1250, is the image of Buddha, a chief deity in 
the Buddhism, and, though injured much by huge waves in 
1495, is now still in an excellent preservation in this monas- 
tery. It is about 50 feet in height, 98 feet in waist-circum- 
ference; the length of the face is 8 and a half feet, and of the 
eye is 4 feet, and of the ear is 6 feet, 6^ inches, and of the 
nose is 3 feet, %% inches; the breadth of the mouth is 3 feet, 
lYz inches; the diameter of the lap is 36 feet; the circum- 
ference of the thumb is over 3 feet. 

Written by the Koiokuin^ 
at Kamakura 

in the Province of Sagami.^' 




Kamakura Daibutsu. 



Land of the Morning. 1 1 



^jd 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

WHY is it that the very best Japan- 
ese shops in our country are never 
attractive ? One enters them 
with no pleasure, never cares to purchase 
when once inside, but here if you enter 
one you enter all and are certain to go 
home bankrupt ; so I should advise you to 
buy your steamer ticket and pay your hotel 
bill before you commence to shop. Every 
place is full of things which delight you and 
you want them all. " Deakins " on the 
Bund at Yokohama is a museum in itself, 
one that you will return to again and again 
and not see half it contains. You will not 
find any thing cheap there. They are very 
beautiful, but very costly. He is the Tif- 
fany of Japan. 

The Japanese are marvelous carvers, 



236 Eastward to the 

especially in ivory, far superior to the 
Chinese, as in fact they are in every thing 
else, and they are a pleasant people to deal 
with, making you feel that you are welcome, 
that they will be happy to see you again. 
In China you are constantly impressed with 
the idea that to cut your head off would give 
the most sincere pleasure to each and every 
man in the kingdom. The work of the 
Chinese is marvelous as to execution, and is 
always most elaborate, but that of the 
Japanese is most artistic, and they possess 
such perfect confidence in their own ability. 
While in Kiotio I purchased a screen very 
beautifully embroidered on one side, but of 
plain satin on the other, which they pro- 
posed to paint in various designs. Even 
before I left the shop it was placed face 
downward on the matting, while the artist 
went to work and without lines or guide of 
any sort, never using a false color or making 
a mistake of any description. I looked on 



La7id of the Moi^ning. 237 

in wonder, knowing that one blunder would 
ruin the entire panel, as of course it could 
not be corrected on that delicate maze 
colored satin, but no blunder was made, and 
the whole was a thing of beauty when com- 
pleted. It is almost impossible to find an- 
cient Satsuma, which is worth its weight in 
gold, but the marts are full of Cloisonne of 
the most beautiful description. Of their 
exquisite inlaid work in ivory, gold and gold 
lacquer, there is much to tempt one, but the 
merchants are honest enough to advise you 
not to buy it as it will not stand our climate, 
being in a short while utterly destroyed 

thereby. Dr. W , of Philadelphia, paid 

some $r 0,000, for three pieces of gold lac- 
quer, but they must be kept under glass 
cases with a cup of water or a wet sponge in 
each, or destruction w^ill soon commence. 
Still there is much to delight the eye that 
will stand our changes and go far toward 
the making of "the house beautiful." 



2^S Eastwa7^d to the 



CHAPTER XLVII. 

THE feast of the Cherry Blossoms 
comes during the month of April, 
and at the same time the camelias 
are in all their glory. There are never any 
cherries in Japan, the tree being cultivated 
entirely for its blossoms, which are double 
and triple until when they are in perfection, 
the whole land is one vast blanket of deli- 
cipus pink. Then the Empress generally 
holds her garden party. (This is her flower 
as the chrysanthemum is that of the Em- 
peror, his feast coming in the fall.) Then 
the people turn out — if they are ever in — in 
all their glory. Progress and dark clothes 
are forgotten, each is as brilliant as a bird of 
paradise, and all day and night the streets 
are thronged, long avenues of cherry trees 
stretch away in all directions, reflecting their 



Land of the Mornijtg. 239 

color in the water, while the wind blows 
clouds of the dainty blossoms every-where, 
until every bush seems a cherry tree, until 
you walk on a carpet of delicate pink, and 
even the sky takes on a mantle of rose 
color. This is the great feast of the spring, 
but there are others, and even as we gaze 
the azalias are forth in all their glory, and 
the country seems aflame. As we leave the 
pier the land has taken on a covering of 
complimentary mourning — let us hope on 
account of our departure, in the form of the 
delicate wistaria, which covers houses and 
temples, hillsides and mountains,, in a robe 
of almost royal purple. 



240 Eastward to the 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

" A moan is the music of the sea." 

THE waters dance and sparkle around 
the little boat that is bearing us out 
to the S. S. " China," riding at an- 
chor in this beautiful harbor of Yokohama. 
Though not so grand as Hong Kong, yet 
it's like Japan. I can say nothing stronger. 
Here are always the ships of nearly every 
other nation, even our own holds its own. I 
did not appreciate the full charm of ancient 
" Nipon " until I had left it far behind me, 
until the thought came to me that perhaps I 
should never see it again, then the longing to 
return was almost unbearable. I was told 
it would be so, but I could not believe it. 
India satisfies the mind, Japan the senses, 
the one is a study, the other an idyll. You 
will never forget the grandeur of the former, 




A Very Perff.ct Description of the Remainder 
OF THE Tour. 



Land of tJie Momiiiig. 241 

but, In years to come, I fancy 'twill be the 
days when " Round the point of Tomioko 
came the jobbling of the sea," that will re- 
turn to you oftenest, remain with you long- 
est, casting forever over fair Japan that 
" light which never was on land or sea." 

'' Oh ! rest je, brother mariners ; 
We will not wander more." 



Finis. 



